L' Ange de la Musique
by Feri-Sakari
Summary: After a fight with Raoul, Christine's flees back to Erik and their love blossoms. But,what happens when Raoul finds them some years after their marriage?Will EC be able to remain together and fight through the hardships that endanger their relationship?
1. Chapter 1: Revelations

**"L' Ange de la Musique" **

**Chapter 1 **

**"Revelations"**

* * *

A deep sigh escaped from Christine's lips as the carriage that she rode advanced under the rain.

The tiny droplets fell heavily over the muddy road in a soft rhythm, while the thunders crashed above in a discordant way, illuminating everything as the thin rays of light soared through the night sky.

"Where are you headed, mademoiselle?" asked the coach driver through the little window, the heavy rain splashing on his face and cloak.

"The Chagny Mansion, please." She said unemotionally, turning her head away to see out the window. The coach driver nodded and urged his horses to go faster.

The hooves splashed noisily on the mud as the horses began trotting faster.

Christine watched the tiny drops of rain slide down the window. The wind outside blew strongly, making the trees sway, their lifeless, leafless branches creaking noisily in a menacing way.

The wind bellowed ghostily, sending chills down Christine's spine. She rubbed her arms to keep herself warm. The coat she had over her dress was not enough to protect her from the chilly air of the crude winter that had fallen over Paris. She wanted to get home as fast as possible.

Christine was in a one-week visit in the outskirts of Paris, visiting her dear Mama Valerius, but, due to the storm that had fallen over Paris, she had to return a day earlier than planned.

Christine thought of everything and nothing. She thought about Raoul, her husband.

She couldn't help but feel empty, even though she had everything; She was a Vicomte's wife, which made her countess, she had a wealthy mansion, she could go wherever she wanted, buy whatever she wanted, she had a loving husband and a family that loved her. But she couldn't help but feel something was missing.

"In sleep he sang to me… In dreams he came…" Christine sang softly, in a whisper that was barely audible, "…that voice which calls to me…. and speaks…. my name…" Her voice trailed off as her breath came out as steam against the cold environment.

Christine shuddered and hugged herself in an attempt to warm her body a bit.

"And…do...I dream…again…" she whispered silently, "…for now…I find…" her voice trailed off again as a little sob escaped her lips and a warm tear slid down her cheek.

Her heart ached, and she felt the emptiness in it more than ever. There was an empty space in her heart that Raoul had yet failed to fill. But he would never fill it, for that emptiness could only be filled by one person. Christine knew who this person was, but every time she thought about him, her stomach lurched and a lump formed in her throat.

Her Angel, her dear angel. Oh, how she missed him. How she missed his voice, his touch, and his soothing words. And yet, she had abandoned him- No, much worse, she had _betrayed_ him.

Raoul loved her more than anything, she knew, but so did her Angel.

Christine had felt the difference between the both of them.

Raoul was kind and gentle, almost shy. But her Angel, he was passion and love combined, and he expressed that passion in his music. Christine had felt the love her Angel felt for her stronger when he sang 'All I ask of you' at the end of 'The Point of no Return'. It was then, that she realized that he'd do anything, even die, for her.

Christine closed her eyes, more tears falling down her cheeks.

"Forgive me…" she whispered, " …please forgive me Angel…I didn't even knew your name…"

3 years had passed since the accident in the Phantom's Lair, and she couldn't forget him yet. Had he forgotten her?

She couldn't forget that kiss. The kiss she had given him at that moment, a kiss full of passion. That kiss, which he had responded, making her feel truly loved.

She could still remember his lips; Soft yet strong, gentle yet passionate.

Another thing she couldn't forget about him, was his touch. His soft touch that made her feel like if she was in heaven. The gentle caresses he gave her as he sang softly in her ear. Those strong hands that slid down her arms and sent waves of warmth through all her body; And that embrace. Oh, that sweet embrace. The warm embrace, full of love, in which he held her on the bridge, in the Don Juan Triumphant opera. She had wished for it never to end, she had wished for him to hold her there forever, in his arms. She had felt safe, protected. _Loved._

And yet, she had chosen Raoul.

The difference between the Phantom and Raoul is that Raoul treated her more like a girl, always spoiling her and 'watching out for her safety'. The Phantom, he made her feel like a woman, a real woman.

Sadness flooded her. Tears flowed like rivers down her cheeks now, as she sobbed.

She couldn't stop thinking about him. His eyes, his lips, his touch and his voice. These and more, were the things that had spellbound her about him.

The sound of hooves hitting solid rock brought her back to reality. They had reached the city.

The horses trotted through the streets of the city, the rain still falling merciless over them.

The buildings looked haunting under the stormy night, their shadows dancing like ghosts every time a bolt of lightning illuminated the frivolous city.

They passed several buildings, and then Christine's eyes fell on a rather familiar one.

It was big and majestic. The storm had not yet managed to cut out the building's sublime appearance.

The Opera Popullaire.

It had changed little over the past 3 years. She had not returned to that place since that day, down in the lair.

Christine quickly turned her gaze away from the window as sad memories came back to her.

As they were reaching the Chagny Mansion, Christine hastily dried her tears with the sleeve of her coat, trying to hide the sadness she felt at that moment.

The carriage ran into a halt outside the great Manor's gate.

"I'll get a bit closer Madam. So that you won't get wet." the coach driver announced.

"No, don't mind… It's okay… I can go from here..." Christine said as she opened the carriage's door.

"But Madam! You'll get a cold!" he said, alarmed.

"It's just a few yards away, don't worry…" she said calmly, sadness in her voice.

"But Countess-!"

"Please!" Christine said strongly, interrupting him.

The coach driver remained silent.

Christine stepped out and handed the driver some coins. " Thanks for your services..." she said as she walked away through the gates, towards the entrance.

The driver just watched as she walked, the rain falling heavily over her, drenching her coat and dress. He saw her shiver against the cold night's air as she reached the door.

"Poor girl…" the driver muttered as he urged his horses to resume their trotting. The carriage then disappeared into the horizon.

Christine shivered as she opened the door. Stepping inside, she found the Mansion dimly lit.

"Raoul?" Christine called, her dress and coat dripping, as she closed the door.

No response.

The Mansion was as silent as a tomb. The only sound was that of the wind blowing outside.

"Raoul?" Christine called again as she made her way up the dark staircase.

A sense of foreboding flooded her as she walked through the looming silence.

Christine reached the landing and walked down the hall towards Raoul's and her room, her steps so gracious that it seemed like if she was floating.

"Honey? I'm home…" she said as she reached the room and opened the door slowly, "I had to return earlier due to the-"

Christine stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

A shocked Raoul stared back at her from the bed. His hair was ruffled and he was not wearing any shirt. But worst of all, he was holding someone in his arms. A woman.

"Raoul…" Christine choked, "H-How…could you?" Tears began streaming down her eyes again.

"N-no..C-christine.." Raoul stuttered, his voice cracking, "I-It's not what it seems."

"Things are exactly what they seem!" Christine shouted, tears falling furiously.

"C-Christine.. y-you don't understand!" Raoul said. The woman beside him looked quite undisturbed.

"Is she your wife?" The blonde woman that lied beside him asked.

Raoul turned to look at her with pleading eyes.

"I thought you said she was not to be back till tomorrow." The whore said calmly.

Christine gasped.

"You…you.." Christine started, but she was so angry that she couldn't speak.

Raoul turned back to her with wide eyes.

"Please Christine…. L-let me explain!" Raoul said alarmed.

"There's nothing to explain!" Christine screamed as she stormed out from the room and ran down the hallway.

"Christine! WAIT!" Raoul shouted after her as he got out of bed and dressed up as fast as he could manage.

Christine ran down the stairs as fast as she could, Raoul screaming after her.

Christine reached the door just as Raoul reached the landing.

Christine opened the door with a bang, running out. Raoul chased after her, screaming at her to wait, but Christine didn't stop. Why would she come back to him after what he had done?

Christine opened the gates and ran through them, the rain still falling and the wind blowing strongly.

The rain hit her hard in the face, but she didn't stop. She didn't know where she was heading to, but she didn't want to go back.

"CHRISTINE!" Raoul called after her, still chasing her down the street, through the rain.

"Stay away from me!" Christine yelled back at him while running. "Leave me alone!"

"NO! Christine! Please wait!" Raoul yelled. But Christine kept on running down the street, past the buildings.

Raoul ran faster and managed to catch her. He wrapped his arms tightly around her upper body, restraining her arms forcefully, to keep her from fighting.

Christine fought, trying to get free, but Raoul was too strong for her.

"Let me go!" She screamed, but Raoul didn't budge.

"Listen to me!" Raoul yelled, "You don't understand!"

Christine hit him hard in the ribs with her elbow, which made Raoul let her go.

Raoul clutched his chest, as Christine turned around to face him, her eyes red from crying.

"WHAT IS IT THAT I DON'T UNDERSTAND?" Christine yelled. "I understand quite perfectly what you did! Clearly I wasn't enough for you, was I?"

"NO, Christine, wait…let me explain!" Raoul tried to say, as he advanced slowly towards her.

"There's nothing to explain! I thought you loved me Raoul!… I thought you did…but it was all a lie… a filthy lie…" Christine said as she hung her head and backed away from Raoul.

"Christine, it's not what you think…" Raoul said, but Christine interrupted him.

"It's not what I think?" she said incredulously, " Then what was it Raoul? Was that woman just there chatting with you… I don't think so!"

"Christine…" he started, rather angrily.

"STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU LUSTFUL BASTARD!-"

SMACK!

Raoul had slapped Christine across the face. Christine turned to look back at him with glassy, wide eyes, while she placed a hand over her cheek.

"How dare you…." Christine managed to say, rather shakily.

"Watch your mouth, Christine!" Raoul said menacingly.

"What Raoul?" Christine started, "You don't like people telling you what you are?"

Christine gasped. Raoul had lunged at her, taking her brusquely by the wrists.

"Stop…it.." Raoul said angrily, his teeth bared. "You will…return to me…and we'll talk.."

"No!" Christine shouted at him, struggling to get free from Raoul's grasp. "We will not talk! And I will not go with you!"

Suddenly, Raoul lost all self-control and grabbed her throat with his right hand, while holding both her wrists with his left with might.

Christine choked as she tried to get free.

"You forgot something my dear…" Raoul said with a demented grin, losing his sanity. "You belong to me!"

He took her right hand and pulled it brusquely up, so that Christine saw the gleaming, golden ring Raoul had given her.

"You're _mine…" _he finishedHe then tried to give Christine a kiss, but, since Raoul had freed her left hand, she slapped him across the face.

He stumbled backwards and fell to a puddle. Christine backed away, turned around, and began to run, her wrists and neck throbbing painfully.

"You won't escape from me!" Raoul shouted, he stood up and chased after her.

She turned on a corner and hid behind some dustbins in an abandoned alley between two buildings. She hid, waiting for Raoul to go away.

"Where are you Christine…" Raoul said in a manic tone. "Where are you? I'm going to find you little Lotte!"

Christine shrunk back, trying to hide as best as possible. But just then, a thunder fell and Christine managed to take a glimpse of Raoul's face.

He had a crazy grin on his face, his eyes searching every corner of the road.

Christine shuddered and hid back.

After some minutes that seemed an eternity to Christine, Raoul gave up and yelled to the stormy night, "I WILL FIND YOU CHRISTINE! NO MATTER WHERE YOU HIDE! NO MATTER WHERE YOU GO! I'LL FIND YOU! You have nowhere to go! You have to come back!", before turning to head home.

Christine started to cry again, not of sadness, but fear. What was this man capable of? Didn't he love her? Why did he did this to her? He had never behaved like this, what was wrong with him?

The rain fell harder than ever. Christine stood up and glanced sideways before coming out of her hideout.

She hugged herself to gain some warmth and walked down the road, not knowing where she was headed.

Suddenly, she heard splashing hooves behind her. She turned around. A white horse trotted towards her, and mounting the white horse…

"Raoul…" Christine said breathlessly. Raoul had not yet seen her, but she broke into a run, her coat starting to weight on her. She quickly took it off, threw it aside, and ran faster.

The chilly wind enveloped her. She only wore a short-sleeved, dark-blue dress, which helped her camouflage against the dark environment.

She began to feel weak by the moment. She stopped to take a breath of air.

She inhaled, the air entering and cutting her inside like a million needles. She gasped as the trotting behind her became stronger.

She looked around her and gaped at the building beside her. She stood in front of the Opera Popullaire.

She ran with the remaining strength she had towards the door. She opened the door and got inside. She closed it at the sound of the hooves approaching.

She waited in silence. Then, slowly, the trotting began to die away, until all that Christine heard, was the bellowing wind, the falling of the rain, and the crash of thunder.

She turned around gradually, facing the huge room before her. The room was dimly lit, just a few candles shone still.

She looked around the majestic room. Voices from the past whispered in her ears.

_"Masquerade! Paper faces on parade, Masquerade! Hide you face so the world will never find you!"_

Christine walked slowly in the room. She saw the giant staircase leading to the Top Boxes. The staircase…

_"Why so silent good Monsieurs! Did you think that I had left you for good?"_

The memory of that moment in the Bal Masque came back to her. She quickly shook it away, and continued to walk.

She walked through a door that led to the theater.

She walked inside, surveying each corner of the theater. The seats, the boxes, the golden statues, the giant, brand new chandelier, which hung ominously over her, and the stage…

She gazed at the stage. So many memories. But one in particular, came back to her.

_"Past the point of no return… no backward glances. Our games of make believe are at an end. Beyond the point of no…re…turn….."_

She looked away. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around her.

She walked down the aisles, toward the dressing rooms.

"Hello?" she called. No response. Maybe everyone was sleeping now.

She walked down the lonely hallway toward a room. Her room. Or what once was her room.

She opened the door; it creaked slowly in its hinges.

Christine found a gas-lamp and lit it. She looked around.

It was just as she had left it. Clearly the maid had continued her chores, for the room was impeccable.

She walked inside and looked around again.

As she scanned the room, her eyes instantly fell on the huge mirror that stood in one of the walls.

Christine couldn't stop the tears that now trickled down her cheeks at the memory of him.

_I am your Angel of music… Come to me angel of music…_

The voice echoed in her mind. Was he still here? Had he escaped the mob? Had he forgotten her?

And before Christine could stop herself, she called into the void. "Hello?"

Silence.

"Are you there?"

No response.

"Please… Answer me! Ghost, Phantom! …. Angel!" Christine's voice trailed off as she broke crying.

"Angel…angel…. come to me… Please… come to me..." Christine choked on the words, as she slowly fell on her knees and stayed there for a moment, waiting for a reply…

She stood there in silence, her sobbing the only thing that broke the quietness.

"I-I….I need…you…" she sobbed. She wrapped her hands around her and hung her head pitifully, sobbing uncontrollably. She shook as the coldness overtook her. She would never see him again. He had surely forgot her. Her heart broke in million pieces that night.

* * *

He heaved a great sigh. He could not sleep, no matter how hard he tried.

He paced around his lair, his cloak bellowing behind him as he went. His white porcelain mask, which covered the right side of his face, shone brightly under the candles' light.

He then approached his organ and sat on the bench.

He tried to play, but he gave up every time he tried to play a song.

He slammed his fingers on the keys angrily, their sound reverberating in the windpipes and across the room.

This had been happening for 3 years in a row, since she left him.

Ever since she left, he had been utterly miserable. He couldn't play any longer, he couldn't sing. His muse had fluttered away from him. The Music of the Night had died away; just a mere memory remained in his mind.

'Forget her!' he had said to himself countless times. But he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget her.

He sighed as he placed his forehead on his hands.

Her voice still rang in his ears. A melodious voice, that of an angel, his angel of music.

"Why..." he asked himself "Why must I dwell in the past?"

He gave an exasperated moan and stood up. He heard her voice again, in his mind: _"It's in your soul, where the true distortion lies…"_

He smashed a fist in the wall. A single tear trickled down his cheek.

"How could I ever thought…" He said to himself miserably, " that an angel like her would love a demon like me. How could she love a monster… a hideous beast…"

_"Answer me! Ghost! Phantom! …Angel!"_

This snapped Erik out of his thoughts. He turned to look up. It seemed to come from above. That voice. A voice he knew all so well. A voice he heard every time in his dreams. That angelic voice that haunted his existence.

Erik shook his head.

"You're imagining things again, my dear Erik..." he scolded himself as he made his way to his room.

Then, he heard sobbing, coming again from above. to me… " 

Christine? He wondered.

"C-Christine… NO…it can't be." He said to himself again.

_"Please… come to me..."_

It was Christine! Or at least, that's what he thought. Finding out if he was imagining things or if this was real, hurt no one. So he had to find out, this would put his soul to rest.

He strolled to the shore. He got on his gondola hastily, rowing as fast as he could. He passed the Portcullis and rowed out into the darkness of the lake.

He reached Caesar. He quickly mounted him and urged him to climb up.

Cesar neighed as his trot turned into full gallop. Erik reached a landing and got off. He then ran up the stairs, ran through the hallway with the candelabra, and up a dark corridor that lead to the mirror.

He stopped dead at the sound of a sobbing.

Erik then approached the mirror cautiously, with the sound of the sobbing getting louder as he advanced.

_"I-I….I need…you…"_

He heard a young woman say. He looked through the mirror and saw a woman with curly brown hair, which, was soaked in water along with her garments. The woman was on her knees, hugging herself in a pitiful way while sobbing.

It couldn't be! Was she-? He had to know.

* * *

Christine continued sobbing in the spot, cold tears falling on her knees. She shivered from the cold and her face had become as pale as parchment.

Just then, she heard a voice.

"Christine?"

She jerked her head upward, and stared at the mirror.

The mirror then slid slowly, revealing a tall man in elegant black garments, and wearing a half white mask in the right side of his face.

Erik stared down at her with glassy eyes; he himself seemed close to tears for what lay before him.

"C-Christine?…"

* * *

Aaaah, first chapter ready!

Hope you like it so far! And please excuse my grammar mistakes! English is my second language, so don't expect great things from me, hehehe.. -shuts up-

Erik- -reads- Mmhhh.. I approve. Good job I suppose.

Feri- Hello, Erik

Erik- Oh, hello! Hey! You're the creepy, little girl that kidnapped me yesterday aren't you?

Feri- I love you too. ¬¬

Erik- I never said I loved you.

Feri- It's called 'sarcasm' .. just so you know.. ¬¬

Erik- You're so annoying…

Feri- Bleh- I know … But I really do love you..

Erik- Well, I suppose that's a relief..

Feri- Wait…was that-

Erik- Yeah, it was sarcasm…

Feri- …¬¬

Erik- So…

Feri- So… please click that little button down there and leave a review! PLEASE!

puppyeyes- Just look at these eyes! Please leave a review!

Erik- You're so pathetic…

Feri- Leave me alone, will ya? ¬¬

Feri-san


	2. Chapter 2: Back in your arms

**"L' Ange de la Musique"**

**Chapter 2**

**"Back in your arms…"**

* * *

"C-Christine…?" Erik stuttered, as he stared down at her with his glassy blue-green eyes, surveying her quietly.

Christine just stood there, kneeled on the floor, not believing what her eyes saw.

Yet, she stood up gradually, her tears flowing slowly down her cheeks, as her eyes widened.

He was alive? He had escaped!

A little spark of hope burst in her heart as she saw him standing there, before her.

He stepped out of the mirror; He gaped at her, as if to say something, but yet nothing escaped his lips and he closed his mouth shut.

Christine managed to give a weak, sad smile.

Erik could see the sadness in her eyes, despite the attempts she made in trying to look cheerful; something was clearly wrong, very wrong.

But before he could do or say anything, Christine had lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his torso in a hug and crying into his shoulder.

Erik staggered backwards from the surprise, but managed to keep his balance.

Christine sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder, shaking all over, her tears falling on his coat, moistening it.

"C-Christine!" he said nervously, as he shakily placed his left hand on her back, while placing the right one on the top of her head, "What's wrong?"

"Forgive me!" She choked, shivering. "Please forgive me!"

"F-Forgive you? For what?" He asked rather incredulously.

She didn't answer; She just held herself to Erik, crying inconsolably. She trembled furiously as a draft of wind entered through the open door.

Erik cupped her chin on his hand and forced her to look up at him. Her eyes, brown pools full of sadness, red from the crying, stared back at him. Her skin was as pale as a ghost, and she was freezing cold.

"My God, Christine…" he said, " You're as cold as ice!"

He hastily took his cloak off and wrapped it around Christine's shoulders. He then embraced her and rubbed his hand fervently on her shoulder to warm her up. Christine gave in to his embrace and closed her eyes.

Christine shivered against his body as she wrapped the cloak tighter around herself. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. She then gave him a sad, shaky smile.

"T-thank…you…" she managed to say, before moving her gaze back to the floor.

Erik sensed that something was terribly wrong. Why had Christine come back to him? Why was she drenched in water, shivering in the cold… And most importantly… _why was she crying?_

"Christine..." He started, "Is something wrong?"

Christine only responded with a flinch. She closed her eyes tightly.

"Why did you came here..?" he asked quietly, "Where's the vicom-"

But before he could finish, Christine had brusquely broken free from his embrace, taking some quivering steps backwards.

Erik was taken off guard by the sudden action and uttered a silent gasp.

"Don't you… "Christine said shakily, her voice breaking as she turned her stare to the floor, "Don't you talk to me…about _him_…"

She drew her hands to her face and sobbed into them. It was then that Erik noticed something in her wrists. He noticed thin red lines running around them. Bruises; The bruises he had caused her when he sunk his nails on her flesh.

Erik felt a surge of anger course his body.

He walked towards her and stepped in front of her. He gently took her hands away from her face. She looked near to a nervous breakdown as she gazed into his green-blue eyes.

Erik took her right hand in his left and turned her hand around, palm up.

With his right hand, he traced along the bruises in her wrists, examining them, with fire raging inside him. She winced in pain and Erik stopped.

"Did he did this to you?" he asked seriously, his voice cracking by the rage he was feeling.

Christine moved her eyes away and stared at the wall. She nodded silently, a silent tear trickling down her eye.

Then, Erik noticed something in her neck too. She had a reddish-purple mark around it. He reached out and caressed her neck gently.

"And this?" he asked.

Christine nodded again, closing her yes.

Erik stared, furious, at the wounds in her neck and wrists.

Christine broke into crying again.

"Oh, Christine…" He said miserably, as he pulled her to him, once more embracing her. Christine wrapped her arms around him, and rested her head in his chest, her tears falling freely.

"What has he done to you?" He asked looking down at her.

"He wasn't happy,…" she mumbled silently, almost inaudible.

"Pardon me?" he asked.

"He wasn't happy when I found him…" she said breathlessly. "..With someone else…" her voice cracked as her knees gave in.

She fell to the floor, sobbing, Erik too fell to his knees, holding her tight.

"What?" he said incredulously.

"He-he…he was with another w-woman…" she sobbed.

Erik gaped. How dare he betray her?

"Christine..." he said soothingly. "Let's stand up, shall we? Let's get you to a comfortable place. Then you can tell me everything."

He helped her up and walked her to the bed. She sat down and Erik sat beside her.

"What happened, Christine?" he asked.

"W-when I came back home…I-I found him with another woman." She began shakily,

"I screamed at him, and ran out into the night."

_No wonder she was all wet and cold_, Erik thought.

"He chased after me, even though I told him to stay away from me..." She twirled a piece of her dress in her fingers nervously.

Erik watched her intently, watching every movement she made, every gesture she gave.

"H-he caught me… He told me to come back with him. I cursed him and he…" her voice trailed off a bit, "He slapped me…"

She drove her left hand to her cheek unconsciously

"H-he what…?" Erik inquired.

"H-he slapped me… he then took me by the wrists, telling me that I was to go back. I refused and he tried to strangle me..."

Erik shook slightly, anger flooding every fiber of his being.

"He told me I was _his_… He tried to kiss me, and I took the opportunity and slapped him hard across the face…" she said this with a little smile.

Erik couldn't help but smile slightly. It was clear Christine had enjoyed that blow she gave him.

Her expression changed in a split second, into a somber one.

"I ran away, he ran after me…" she said, "I hid in an alley. He searched for me, but he hadn't managed to find me.

"He then gave up, but screamed into the night that he would find me, no matter where I went, no matter where I hid, he w-would…" She shook, her voice trailing off, "…f-find me."

Christine wrapped her hands around her. The cloak fell off her, revealing once again the wounds on her wrists.

Now that he saw her, Erik noticed that she looked frail and weak. She shivered at the memories of the events.

Erik wrapped the cloak around her again and pulled her to him, letting her rest her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her as she heaved a sigh.

"And then…" she said, resting her head on his chest, "I came here… And found you…"

She sighed, as she wrapped her arms around him.

"My Angel…" she whispered.

She smiled and closed her eyes. Her chest heaved slowly as she inhaled and exhaled softly.

Erik tightened her grip on her, rubbing her arm gently.

Erik held her in there. He leaned his head on hers, closing his eyes and inhaling the sweet fragrance that emanated from her hair.

She sighed.

"Christine..?" he whispered.

No answer.

He looked down at her. She was sound asleep in his arms, her smile still lingering in her face.

_She had a tough night, tonight,_ he thought.

He picked her up as carefully as he could and laid her silently on her bed. He rested her head on the delicate pillow as a soft sigh escaped her lips.

He smiled at her and drew the warm blankets over her thin frame.

He tucked her tenderly and kneeled beside the bed, at her side.

He gazed at her. His beauty, his angel. Her peaceful face calmed his soul of the rage he had felt earlier.

He reached out and brushed some curls from her face. He then caressed her cheek gently with a gloved hand.

His hand traveled down her cheek to her neck.

He watched the purple wound with hate. That bastard. How dare he hurt his beloved Christine. Hadn't he, Raoul, promised Christine to 'protect' her? To 'care' for her?

Christine winced in her sleep. Erik quickly withdrew his hand and surveyed her with his eyes.

She turned slowly on her side, facing him, and without waking up.

He sighed and looked all around him. It sure felt eerie. The wind blew strongly still, the rain kept pounding on the window.

All of a sudden, he felt something take hold of his hand. He looked down and found Christine's hand on his.

Apparently, she had done this unconsciously, for she continued to sleep soundly.

His gaze ran to her wrist, to the bruises it held. He looked sadly at them.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. He then lowered it back and muttered,

"I won't let him come near you again. I won't let anything harm you…"

Suddenly, he felt someone watching him and turned around brusquely.

In the door's threshold stood Mme. Giry in her nightgown.

Erik gave a sigh of relief.

"I was afraid you were someone else…" Erik told her.

Mme. Giry smiled down at him, and entered the room. She approached him and sat in the bed at Christine's feet.

Erik stood up and faced her.

"Did you h-" he started, but he was cut off.

"Yes, I heard everything, Erik." She said curtly as she turned to watch Christine.

"I'm afraid her sobs were strong enough to wake me from my slumber. But when I heard you, I decided not to interrupt." She said.

Erik nodded gratefully.

"Poor child," she whispered as her eyes traveled through her body to Christine's wrists.

Erik nodded sadly.

"We don't know what the Vicomte is capable of, he seems not to be in his right state of mind," Mme. Giry said. " She'll have to stay here for her own safety."

"I'll make sure that fop doesn't get anywhere near her." Erik said defiantly.

Just then, Christine began moaning in her sleep. She tightened her eyes, as cold sweat began dripping from her forehead.

She clutched her pillow, as if she were in pain. She twisted and twirled in the bed, as if trying to get free from something…or someone.

"Christine!" Erik shouted, but she didn't seem to wake.

"Christine, dear, what's wrong!" Mme. Giry shouted as well.

But she didn't listen or woke up. Tears began seeping from her eyes as she trashed about, her chest heaved up and down rapidly as silent gasps escaped her mouth.

"What's wrong with her!" Erik asked, alarmed.

"She must be having a nightmare, a painful memory!" Mme. Giry said.

Erik approached her and placed his hand gently on her cheek.

"I-It's ok now… Don't worry Christine…Everything is fine..." He muttered nervously, half to himself. He caressed her cheek softly in a comforting way.

Incredibly, Christine stopped trashing; her face relaxed, and her breathing became normal after a few seconds.

She gave a great, deep sigh as she slept.

Erik sighed too. Sweat was dripping down his brow, under his mask.

"Don't worry, Erik. It was just a nightmare." Mme. Giry said reassuringly.

Erik nodded. He just didn't like to see Christine in pain. It killed him inside to see her in such state.

"WHERE IS SHE?" a voice bellowed from the hall, making Erik and Mme. Giry startle.

"Please Monsieur, not so loud! You'll wake everybody!" Meg Giry's voice said.

"I DON'T CARE! I WANT TO KNOW WHERE SHE IS!" the voice bellowed again.

"Monsieur Le Vicomte! Wait!" Meg cried.

"Oh dear…" was all that Mme. Giry managed to say. "The vicomte."

Erik's eyes widened as he jerked his head towards Christine.

"Erik," Mme. Giry said seriously, " Take her down to your lair, and keep her safe! Make sure he doesn't see you! I'll try to distract him!"

Before Erik could retort, Mme. Giry left the room in a hurry and closed the door behind her.

With his pulse racing, and his heart beating hard against his chest, Erik picked Christine in his arms carefully. She didn't wake up.

He strolled towards the mirror. He stepped through it and the mirror slid slowly close.

He began descending the stairs, when he heard a door bang beyond the mirror.

"I KNOW SHE'S HERE! WHERE ELSE WOULD SHE BE?" Raoul shouted as he broke into the room.

Erik froze in the spot. He kneeled slowly so that the light from the room didn't reach him and Christine.

"Monsieur! Please be reasonable! If she were to be here, we would've told you!" Mme. Giry's voice came.

Raoul stayed silent. He paced about in the room. "Christine…where are you hiding?" He muttered.

Just then, Christine gave a loud moan in her sleep. Erik clapped a hand to her mouth.

"What was that?" Raoul asked menacingly.

"It-it must've been the wind, Monsieur…" Mme. Giry said.

"It sounded more like a human moan!" Raoul retorted.

Fresh sweat dripped from Erik's forehead. Christine squirmed in his arms.

Clearly, Raoul's voice disturbed her, even in her dreams.

"Monsieur! Please! You're making a fuss!" Mme. Giry said alarmed, "If we see her, we'll call you immediately! For today, just go home and sleep!"

Raoul watched her with hatred.

"Fine…" he said finally, "Fine… Any sign of her… Alert me immediately." And he strolled out of the room.

Mme. Giry gave a sigh.

"You owe me one, Erik…" she whispered to the air. She then left the room too, closing the door behind her.

Erik grinned. She picked Christine up again and made his way down to his lair.

He passed the hallway with the candelabra, and down the staircase he went.

He climbed up Caesar, the horse, with Christine in his arms sleeping peacefully.

Cesar trotted softly, the sound of his hooves echoing in the walls. They finally reached the lake.

Erik got off and walked to the shore where his gondola was. He laid Christine delicately in the gondola.

He climbed up himself and started to row.

The mist closed in on them as he approached the Portcullis. The Gondola reached the shore with a soft '_thump'_.

Erik got off and picked Christine once again in his arms. She unconsciously rested her hand on his chest and she gave a sigh.

Smiling, he carried her slowly to his bedroom.

The candles flickered at his presence, as he approached the swan bed.

He laid Christine carefully on the bed, her head resting softly on the crimson cushions.

He drew the scarlet blankets over her and tucked her safely.

He gazed at her. He allowed himself a smile. He kneeled down and whispered to Christine, "Sleep, my Angel." And before he could stop himself, he gave her a tender kiss on the forehead. He stood up, strolled to the door and disappeared through it.

* * *

Next day, Erik sat at his organ, writing his music. His inspiration had come back now that Christine was with him. He smiled as he played a soft melody, 'Angel of Music', was the name.

Just then, he heard a soft moan that came from his room.

He whirled his head around.

Christine stood in the door, but she didn't look very well. Her face was very pale; her eyes were unfocused, and she trembled slightly.

"Christine?" Erik said, as he stood up and walked towards her, "Are you all right?

Christine staggered sideways, as she tried to walk towards him.

"Christine?"

Suddenly, Christine's eyes rolled up her head and she collapsed.

Erik caught her before she hit the ground.

"Christine! Christine!" he screamed, startled.

She closed her eyes and gave a soft moan. Erik reached for her face, and caressed her cheek. He withdrew his hand quickly. She was burning hot!

He placed his hand on her temple and felt her temperature. Heat emanated from her whole body. She trembled slightly. A known symptom of a cold.

"You have fever…" Erik said. "I'll tuck you back into bed…"

"But I don't want to go to bed…" Christine replied sleepily.

"You can't go walking out here with this fever, Christine…" he said as she picked her up and carried her back to the room, "We don't want you to get worse."

"Mmmmhh…." Was her reply. Clearly, the fever had begun to make her feel dizzy.

She laid her down on the bed.

"Please stay here, I'll be back shortly…" Erik said as he strolled out of the room.

Christine nodded. She felt her cheeks flush from the high fever. She closed her eyes. She sighed.

_"It's ok now, don't worry Christine… you'll be fine..."_

Christine heard his voice say in her mind. He had said that while she slept. She remembered how he caressed her cheek sweetly, in a caring way, while saying these words.

Christine lifted her hand and placed it upon her cheek. She smiled.

Just then, she heard footsteps. She opened her eyes and found Erik standing above her, holding something in his hand…

He pulled a chair and sat on it. He then took the thing he was carrying and placed it above Christine's forehead.

It was a wet cloth. This sent a wave of freshness through her body.

"This should ease the fever." he said, while brushing away some curls of hair with his hand.

Christine nodded weakly and closed her eyes.

"Thank you…Angel…" she whispered.

"Please," he said miserably, "Don't call me that. You know that I'm not an Angel." He finished sadly.

Christine opened her eyes.

"You are an angel…_for_ _me._" she said, opening her eyes and smiling at him.

Erik looked away, touched.

"But if it makes you feel so unhappy," she continued, " What should I call you, then?"

"Erik…." He said, turning to look at her, "Call me Erik…"

"Erik…" she repeated as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

Yay! Second chapter finished! Hope you like it!

Erik- It was good…

Feri- could you be a little more supportive? ¬¬

Erik- (sighs) I'll try

Feri- thanks…! (hugs)

So, thank you for the wonderful reviews people!

My Goal is to reach 100 reviews…Will you help me achieve my goal? X3

Leave a review!

Thanks!

Feri-san


	3. Chapter 3: Where my Heart Lies

**"L' Ange de la Musique"**

**Chapter 3**

**'Where my heart lies….'**

* * *

Christine stirred in her sleep without opening her eyes. Her body now felt light and fresh. Surely the fever had subsided.

She felt the pillows under her head. They were heavenly soft, and very comfortable.

She inhaled the sweet, male fragrance that emanated from them. She sighed.

Then, something clicked in her mind. A name. A name came back to her. A name that roamed the corners of her mind. A name that made her feel secure and protected.

_Erik…_

"Erik…" The name brushed past her lips in a soft whisper.

"Yes?" she heard someone say. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found herself on a swan bed with crimson covers and matching pillows. She searched for the source of the voice. That voice. That sweet, strong voice. Her Angel!

Her eyes searched the room and fell on a figure sitting on an armchair in the far corner of the room.

He looked back at her with concern in his eyes, his face half hidden in the shadows.

He had a book in his hands.

Apparently, he had stayed there to look out for her, in case she felt uncomfortable at any moment, and to check on her fever.

"Erik…?" Christine whispered again.

Christine lifted herself from the pillow, looking curiously at him.

Erik nodded his head and stood up. He walked towards her and kneeled beside her.

Christine stared at him, not believing her eyes. She had thought everything had been a dream. No. A nightmare. A nightmare that then turned into a dream when she saw his beautiful, deep, turquoise eyes.

He reached out and placed his right hand on her temple. He felt her temperature. Normal.

"Do you feel better?" he asked anyways. He slid his hand to her flushed cheek.

She nodded, smiling at him. She lifted her hand, and placed it above Erik's.

"Yes, thank you…" She said, resisting the urge to jump into his arms as she had done before. Oh, how she had missed him. His voice, his touch, his eyes, everything about him!

He nodded and smiled at her. She blushed a bit and smiled back.

"I…" she started with a quivering voice, "I would like to thank you…" she turned her gaze to the floor, "For…for what you did the-the other night-…" she finished.

"Any...time..." was all that he managed to say, almost blushing himself, but managing to hide it. He had his Angel here, and that was all that mattered.

He stood up and looked down at her.

Christine returned her gaze to him, and stared deep into his eyes. Her eyes suddenly became glassy, tears threatening to fall at any moment.

"Erik…" She said, her lower lip quivering, " I…I'm so sorry…."

"For what?" Erik asked, cocking his head, without a clue of what she was talking about.

"Please… please forgive me…" She said, as the tears started to flow down her cheeks. She drew her hands to her eyes to prevent Erik from seeing her tears. But he had seen.

This broke Erik's heart and he sat on the bed beside her. He gently wrapped his arms around her and pushed her to him.

"Shhh…." He whispered soothingly in her ear. She rested her head against his chest, her tears moistening his white shirt.

"What do you want me to forgive you for?" He asked.

"I…I shouldn't have left you!" she said strongly, yet, her voice breaking.

Erik's eyes widened in realization, and then he dropped his gaze. He remained quiet, failing to find the words he was searching for. Why would she ask forgiveness from her decision?

After all, who would ever love a monster like him? A bloody murderer, an animal, as the mob had called him.

In his opinion, she had made the right choice, even if this thought broke Erik's heart into a million pieces.

"I…I didn't mean to, Erik!" She said, shivering slightly as she cried. "I was so confused! Afraid…" she finished in a slight whisper.

He didn't blame her of being afraid of him. Everyone was. About the confused part, he was clueless. She had seemed downright determined in her decision when she gave him back his ring. And yet, she had confessed she was confused?

"I went with Raoul…but..." she said, " I didn't love him… I never truly did."

Erik's heart gave a tiny lurch of unwilling joy.

"W-who I really loved…" she said, her voice trembling. "Was _you_…"

Erik's heart gave a huge leap when she pronounced those words. She loved him?

"All along… Every time… I loved you. I never stopped in doing so…" she said, "And I found out too late who my heart really belonged to."

She then looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. "It belonged…_to you_…and it still does, and it'll always will."

Erik looked down at her; he looked close to tears himself. He couldn't believe what she was saying. He couldn't believe that she loved him, and that she had never stopped loving him.

"When I first heard you, I had fallen in love with your voice." She said, giving him a weak smile, "And when you first came for me...when I first I saw you…I just fell deeper in love with you. I couldn't help it." She gave a weak chuckle.

Erik just stared at her incredulously, digesting every word slowly; savoring it.

"I had my doubts," she stated, drying her tears with the back of her hand, "But I finally discovered where my heart lied. It lies with you, Erik. And only you." She finished, looking deep into his eyes, waiting for a reply.

But he just stared at her, dumbfounded. The words started to dawn on him slowly. He gaped at her.

"Y-you…. love me?" was all he managed to say.

Christine placed her hand on his left cheek and smiled. "Yes, Erik. I love you. More than anything. Forgive me for not realizing earlier."

Christine saw his lower lip quiver.

"B-but…" he stuttered. He instantly drove his hand over his mask and looked away.

Christine understood and felt compassion for him.

She cupped his chin in her hand and turned his head towards her again.

She reached out with her left hand and removed the mask in a swift movement. Erik flinched and tried to back away as fast as he could in alarm. She quickly took his hand to prevent him from going away any further.

Seeing that he couldn't evade her, Erik immediately clapped his right hand on the scarred side of his face, in an attempt to hide it, and looked down.

Christine's grasp on his wrist softened and she let go.

She reached out for his face and took it in her hands. She slowly took his right hand and lowered it, revealing his deformed face.

Erik looked miserably at her. Why did she have to do that again? Wasn't the pain enough?

She caressed his right side gently without any hesitation. He flinched slightly at her touch.

She looked straight into his eyes and smiled at him.

"_This haunted face…"_ she sang softly, "_Holds no horror for me now…"_

She then leaned forward and gave him a tender kiss in his scarred cheek.

A wave of warmth flooded Erik's entire body. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the moment.

Christine then broke the kiss and looked back at him with a smile.

"It's not this…" she said, placing her hand on his right cheek again, "what matters… It's _this," _she then placed her hand in his chest, above his heart. "What truly means to me."

She then rested her head on Erik's chest, wrapping her arms around him.

Erik just remained quiet, quite contrary to his mind, which was buzzing with questions and unknown voices.

He just wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her warmly.

Just then, Christine felt something warm slide down her cheek. It was a tear. But it was not one of her tears. It was…_his?_

She looked up and met Erik's glassy eyes. Soft tears trickled silently down his cheeks.

Christine broke the embrace and straightened herself, facing him.

"Erik…?" she said, "Why do you cry?"

Honestly, she didn't expect him to cry, being the strong man he was. But now, she had seen him break that serious barrier that surrounded his person, expressing this freedom of that barrier with warm, silent tears. Maybe she said something she shouldn't have said?

"D-Did I say something wrong?" she asked, hesitantly.

Erik gave a soft chuckle and smiled at her.

"The tears I shed," he started, "are not those of sadness, but those of …_happiness_…"

It was true. Erik's soul was bursting with happiness at what Christine had told him. He hadn't felt that happiness since she left. The tiny spark of hope that lingered in his heart, burst into full blaze in an instant. Christine gave him a smile, and brushed away his tears with her thumb.

They watched at each other, with love in their eyes. But, just then, Erik noticed something he hadn't noticed since Christine had woken up.

He drove his hand to her neck and caressed the wound upon it. That bastard. How dare he mistreat his Angel? This sweet creature of heaven. He couldn't forget how frail she had looked when he found her in the dressing room; Crying, drenched in water, freezing cold. It had squeezed his heart so hard that he had thought it would stop beating.

Christine realized this too and placed her hand above his.

"Erik…" she said, tears threatening to fall again, "I don't want to go back…"

Erik was taken aback. But he regained his composure.

"You can stay all the time you like, " he said, "and you can leave whenever…you wish to…" he said this last bit with a tone of sadness in his voice.

"But I don't want to leave!" she said, alarmed, "I want to stay with you! I don't want to leave you again!"

Erik looked deep into her chestnut eyes. She was saying the truth.

"Besides… " She started, "If I go back… I don't know what Raoul is capable of." She started crying silently again, looking away.

"Erik… I'm afraid…" she said, looking back at him. "I'm afraid of him; Of what he can do to me." Her voice quivered.

Erik just embraced her tightly, resting his head on hers.

"Shhhh…Don't worry, Christine…" he said, "I won't let him come near you again. He won't lay a hand on you. You can count on me."

She smiled, her tears falling freely into his shirt. She gave in to his embrace, enveloped in his warmth. She breathed in the sweet fragrance that emanated from him. She didn't want the embrace to end. She wanted to stay in his arms forever. Feeling protected…. feeling…_loved._

"_Angel of Music…"_ she began to sing softly, "_guard and guardian, grant to me your glory_."

She wrapped her arms around him.

_"Angel of Music, my protector, Come to me strange angel…_" she ended in a whisper.

"_I am your Angel of Music…" _he followed.

"Thank you, Erik…" Christine said, "For being my Angel…"

To which Erik simply said, "I'll protect you, no matter what. You can lean on me always."

"Thank you, Erik…" Christine said, tightening her embrace.

Some moments later, Christine stood up, stretching her limbs and sighing, satisfied. Erik placed his mask back on.

Christine then noticed that she still had the dark blue dress she wore the other night. Erik noticed it too.

"I took the liberty of bringing some of your garments from your dressing room while you slept." Erik said, signaling the dark, mahogany closet in one of the corners.

"Thank you, Erik! That was so kind of you!" she said gleefully. Then, she winced and grabbed one of her wounded wrists.

"Are you all right?" Erik asked, concerned.

"Yes… It's just, they're stinging a bit." She said, now rubbing her other wrist.

Erik nodded rather seriously and approached the bureau that lied beside the bed. He opened one of the drawers and took out some rolls of bandages.

He then walked to Christine. He beckoned her to sit down on the bed. She did as told and sat down.

Erik kneeled in front of her and took one of her wrists gently, treating it like if it were a crystal ornament that might break if treated harshly.

He then unrolled the bandage and began wrapping it around Christine's wrist, careful no to hurt her. He finished with one of the wrists and started with the other.

All the time, Christine watched him intently. She noticed that he was very fine looking indeed. She felt her cheeks blush and she shook it away.

"There we go…" Erik said, "That should ease the stinging. Now, on with this one. " He pointed to the wound on her neck.

He stood up to get more bandages. Christine looked down to her wrists. They were perfectly bandaged, and they didn't sting anymore. _He is a perfect doctor as well_, she thought.

Erik returned with larger bandages and sat beside her on the bed.

"I need you to turn your head to me." He said. Christine did as told, turned her head, and met his beautiful eyes. They were so enchanting. You could easily sink in those bottomless pools of turquoise beauty, giving up to his hypnotizing gaze, wishing to remain there, never leave them.

A sharp pain in her neck brought her back to reality, though. She winced.

"I'm s-sorry!" Erik said immediately, stopping his bandaging of her neck "Please forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt you…"

"It's all right, Erik, "Christine said reassuringly, "Don't worry… I'm fine, it was just a little pain."

She smiled at him tenderly. Erik then resumed his bandaging, but he did it slower and did it much more carefully.

Her skin was so soft, so warm. With just touching her, Erik felt like in heaven. And when she touched him, he just wanted to remain there, in her hands, forever. And her voice, oh, her voice. Her voice just sent countless waves of warmth through his body, making his heart pump madly against his chest. He loved her with every fiber of his being. He'd do anything for her even _die_ for her!

Erik finished bandaging her neck. They looked at each other for some moments. Both of them felt their cheeks flush slightly. Christine turned her gaze to the floor.

"T-Thank you…" she said, smiling at him.

"I…er.. You're welcome…" He said. He couldn't help his stammering. She always made him speechless.

Finally, Erik broke the silence that had invaded in the room.

"Y-you should change your dress. " he said, "I'll wait outside."

And before Christine could say anything, Erik stood up, turned on his heels and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Christine just stared at the door a few moments before standing up and strolling to the closet. She stopped midway when she caught a glimpse of a familiar object on the bureau. A Music Box.

She approached it and looked intently at it. Yes, she remembered that Music box. The music box with the shape of a barrel organ with a figure of a Monkey in Persian robes playing the cymbals attached to it.

Nostalgia invaded her and she took the box in her hands. She turned it on and the box began to play.

The monkey beat the cymbals in rhythm as the song started. The music filled the room

"_Masquerade, paper faces on parade, masquerade…."_ Christine sang softly along with the music, ", _hide your face so the world will never find you…"_

The music then started to die away as the monkey stopped playing its cymbals.

Christine placed the box back in place and headed to the closet once again. She sighed as the old memories of her opera days came back to her.

She reached the closet and opened it. She gaped. The closet was full of beautiful dresses, including some she had never seen. Surely Erik had bought them for her. _How sweet of him_! Christine thought.

She looked through the dresses. She stopped at one in particular. She took it out and admired it.

It was a long, elegant dress made of black satin. The cleavage sparkled with tiny, shining diamonds running along the edge. It was a half-sleeved dress. In the sleeves hung extra black cloth that fell elegantly at the sides of the dress. The sleeves were also decorated with diamonds in the edge. Diamond also decorated the end of the dress. In short, the dress was beautiful, breathtaking.

She changed her dress and put on the black dress. It fit perfectly. The cloth in her sleeves hung elegantly down her lower arms, their diamonds gleaming in the candlelight.

She gave a turn and the dress fluttered gracefully behind her. She smiled and made her way to the door.

* * *

She opened the door slowly, and found Erik drinking some wine from his glass calmly, standing by his organ.

He turned to her. Then, his eyes suddenly widened and he spit the wine he had been drinking, coughing. He put the cup down and hastily cleaned his mouth with his sleeve. He gaped at her, eyes wide.

Christine cocked her head, "What?"

"Y..you…" Erik stuttered, "Y-you…"

"I what?" Christine asked.

"You look… F-fabulous!" Erik said. "I knew it would look gorgeous on you, but I didn't know it would look so magnificent!"

Christine blushed and smiled at him.

"Thank you for the dress!" she said happily.

"You're welcome…" Erik said, blushing himself.

Erik then walked towards Christine and stopped in front of her. He then bowed, took her hand in his, and kissed it softly.

"Christine," he said, "Will you give me the pleasure of singing with me once again?" he looked up at her with pleading eyes.

"I'd love to, Maestro…" she said, smiling at him.

She took some air and began to sing intensely:

_In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came. _

_That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name!_

_And do I dream again, for now I find,_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there! Inside my mind!_

Her voice, oh how he had missed her angelic voice! His soul soared as her voice reverberated through the room. He then began singing his part:

_Sing once again with me, our strange duet!_

_My power over you grows stronger yet!_

_And though you turn from me, to glance behind!_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there! Inside your mind!_

His voice, so manly, so strong! Her heart leaped with joy at the sound of his singing voice!

She continued:

_Those who had seen your face, draw back in fear!_

_I am the mask you wear-_

And Erik cut off-

_It's me they hear!_

And they sang together, their powerful duo vibrating strongly on the lair's walls:

_My/Your spirit and your/my voice in one combined!_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there! Inside your/my mind!_

And Erik continued alone:

_In all your fantasies you always knew _

_That man and mystery-_

And Christine continued-

_Were both in you!_

And both resumed their duo-

_And in this labyrinth_

_Where night is blind!_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there/here!_

_Inside your/my mind!_

And Christine finished alone-

_Is there…the Phantom of the Opera!_

"_Is there…."_ She ended in a whisper that was barely audible.

"_The Phantom of the Opera…" _he followed, ending too, in a whisper.

The looked at each other for a moment, smiling merrily.

Suddenly, Christine wrapped her arms around him, embracing him.

"Oh, I missed you so much!" she said, between sobs.

"I missed you too! You don't have an idea of how much!" Erik said, hugging her back happily.

"Erik," she said, whispering, "I never want to leave you again. Never. I want to stay! With you at my side always! To guard me and to guide me!"

"And I will be more than willing to comply!" Erik replied.

Christine looked up at him and managed to give him a quick kiss in his chin.

Erik blushed and looked down at her. He responded by giving her an affectionate kiss on her forehead.

* * *

3 days had passed. Christine was so happy of being with her Angel again. And Erik couldn't have been more pleased.

He was always so kind with her, always either asking her if she needed anything or if she felt uncomfortable.

Every morning, Christine was woken up by Erik's melodious music coming from his organ.

He was so talented, and his music was so perfect.

He had been working on a new song. He had not slept for the past 3 days, trying to get the sound he quite wanted in the song. Every time he failed, he gave a frustrated grunt.

But he didn't give up. He kept trying, playing the song countless times, trying to make it flawless.

His face had lost a bit of its color due to the lack of sleep, and he had bags in his eyes.

This deeply concerned Christine, and she approached him.

"Erik…" she said softly to him, " You've been working on that song for 3 days in a row without sleep. Shouldn't you rest?"

"I can't!" Erik said, "Not until I get it right!"

"But Erik… You're growing so weak. You must sleep! It'll do you good! Believe me! Maybe when you wake up you'll find the note you're missing!" she said gleefully.

"I'm fine, Christine! Honest!" he retorted, "Besides, I can't sleep. Nothing makes me sleep."

Christine stared at him.

"What are you? Some kind of zombie?" she said playfully.

Erik smiled and chuckled.

"Until my mind is at ease, I'll be able to sleep soundly. Till then, I'll continue working."

Christine pouted.

"But you're so tense! You need rest!"

"I'm not tense."

"Yes you are…"

"No, I'm not…"

"Yes…"

"No..."

"Yes!"

"No…"

Christine suddenly poked his back and he twitched. He _was_ tense.

"See?" she said in a matter-of-factly tone. "You need to relax. Rest a bit. Free your tensions."

"I won't be able to free my tensions until I get the song done!" he said desperately.

"I know of something that will make you relax!" she said as an idea drifted into her mind.

"And what can that be?" he asked, not really paying much attention.

"A massage…" she said simply.

"A…massage?"

"Yes! It's very effective. It'll make you relax and fall asleep." She said.

He chuckled.

"You can't expect for a simple massage to be able to make me sleep after all I've tried." He said, proudly.

"Oh, really?" she said, defiantly.

"Yes..." he said.

"Well, we'll see about that…"

"Are you threatening me?" he asked playfully.

"Kind of. I'll make you sleep, you'll see!" she said triumphantly.

"I want to see you try."

"Have it your way then."

Christine rolled up her sleeves and approached Erik. Erik straightened himself in the bench, waiting for Christine.

"Ready for a good sleep?" she said.

"Try me…"

She smirked. She then started her massage.

She placed her hands gently on his shoulders, rubbing them slowly, up and down, squeezing them gently.

"Not working." he said in a singsong voice.

"It's this shirt you wear!" she said. She then slipped the top of his white shirt past his shoulder blades, down his arms, leaving his shoulders and upper back bare.

"That's better…" And she resumed her massaging.

She rubbed his shoulders softly in a circular pattern. He sure was tense. So tense. She rubbed a bit harder, but not enough to hurt him. Not that he would feel it anyways.

She then felt his shoulders give in, and they fell limply. She heard a sigh escape Erik's mouth.

He closed his eyes and leaned back, resting his head on Christine's chest.

"Do you like it?" she asked with a gentle smile, looking down at his relaxed face.

"It's heaven…" he said simply, without opening his eyes.

Christine smiled, and proceeded with massaging the sides of his neck. He gave another sigh of satisfaction.

"Now, will you get to bed and rest?"

"Nuh-uh…" he said playfully.

"I'll give you a better massage if you do so." She said teasingly.

"What? It can't get better than this!" he said incredulously.

"Yes it can!"

"I don't believe you…"

"It'll even make you doze."

"I don't think so…"

"Want to try?"

"Bring it on…"

Erik stood up and faced at her. He smiled.

"Should we go to the room then?" he asked.

"Let's get going." She smiled back.

The both entered the room together, the room dimly lit by the candles.

"Lay face down on the bed." She ordered him. "Oh, and take your shirt off."

He stared at her for some minutes before shrugging and doing as she said.

He took off his shirt, showing his strong, bare chest. Christine beamed at him and blushed, but she turned away before Erik saw.

"L-lay face down on the bed now…" she said nervously.

Erik looked at her for some moments, wondering what was wrong with her. He then shrugged and laid face down on the swan bed, his back exposed. He rested his chin on his folded arms.

Christine cleared her throat and approached him. She kneeled on the bed beside him.

"Now...relax, let your tensions float away…" she said soothingly.

"I will remind you, though, that I will not succumb to slumber."

"Time will tell…" she said defiantly.

"You will not succeed,…" he said jokingly.

"We will see about that…" she said, grinning.

She then placed her hands above his back. She felt the warmth radiating from his body.

She began rubbing his back softly in an up-and-down motion, relaxing all his muscles.

Erik gave a sigh of delight.

"You have a gift there, Christine," Erik whispered. "Your hands are those of an Angel; with a miraculous touch…"

She responded by rubbing his shoulders and the crook of his neck, slowly massaging his skin.

Erik shivered in delight. He closed his eyes and gave in to Christine's soft hands.

A few minutes passed and Erik grew less and less tense. His muscles relaxed one by one, slowly softening. Occasional sighs escaped his lips every once in a while.

She smiled.

"You're getting sleepy…"

"Mmmm…No... I'm not…" he said drowsily.

Christine giggled.

"Yes you are… You're falling asleep…"

"Mmmmm…." was his answer before his mind drifted into sleep and his eye lids fell heavily.

Christine stood up slowly, careful not to wake him up. She saw him inhale and exhale as he slept. His face looked so peaceful; so charming.

She smiled.

"Sleep, my Angel." She whispered, as she leaned down and gave him a soft kiss on his left cheek.

Erik stirred in his sleep and a smile played on his lips.

Next day, Erik woke up fully recovered. His mind was fresh and his body strong and rested. He felt like new. Christine was right. That massage did help.

Christine…. Christine! Where was she?

He put on his white shirt and darted out of the room in search for her.

"Christine?" he whispered, looking all around him. The heat was suffocating. Sweat dripped down his forehead and down his mask.

Suddenly, he heard water flowing, moving. He heard splashes. He walked to the shore and looked down at the lake. He stared as he spotted something drifting through the lake.

Christine swam happily through the water, her cerulean nightgown fluttering behind her in a ghostly way.

She caught a glimpse of him and waved her hand, swimming towards him.

"Good morning!" she said merrily, "Did you sleep well?"

"Uh...Yes, I slept well. Thank you for the massage." He said, beaming at her.

"You're welcome!" she said, beaming back.

"Why don't you come down here?" she said all of a sudden, "The water is lovely! And it's really hot today!"

"I-I don't like to swim."

"Don't be so childish!" she retorted.

"I don't like water!"

"You're not a cat! Come on! Jump in!"

"I can pretend to be one."

"Come now!"

"No, I wont!"

She thought hard, searching for an excuse to make Erik dive in. She had an idea.

"If I'm not much mistaken, yesterday you fell asleep with my massage, when you clearly said you wouldn't." she said in a matter-of-factly tone, "But I won, so you have to do something for me."

She smirked at him.

He gaped, "What? We never agreed on that…" he said, pointing a finger at her accusingly.

"It was a competition, I won, you lost. You give me something now." She said simply.

He sighed.

"And what is it that you want from me?"

"Come down here with me!" she said.

He frowned at her.

"I'm not diving into the lake!"

"You have to!"

"No I don't."

"Come swim with me, you coward!"

He gave a sigh and leaned forward.

He then whispered to her.

"I'm not entering the water, and nothing you say or do will change my mind…"

She smirked.

"You sure?"

"Huh?"

Erik's eyes widened as Christine lunged forward and took hold of the scruff of his shirt. She quickly sank back down into the water, dragging Erik with her.

Erik gave a cry of surprise before splashing into the water.

Christine broke through the water, taking a long breath. She then floated in the spot, waiting for Erik.

He broke trough the water slowly, with a deep frown in his face. His hair fell down his forehead, dripping. He spit a bit of water as he removed his wet hair from his eyes.

Christine burst out laughing. She clapped her hands to her mouth, trying to stifle the laughs.

"You find this funny?" he asked, mocking a tone of seriousness.

She tried to stop the laughing but she couldn't. "Yes!" she said between laughs.

Erik smiled mischievously.

"I'll give you something to laugh for!" he said as he lunged at her, sending big waves through the water.

She swam out of his reach, laughing.

"You'll have to catch me first!" she cried.

"Very well then!" he screamed.

He swam swiftly at her, trying to get hold of her. She dodged him again and swam away from him.

Seeing that his attempts were useless, Erik took a deep breath and sank into the water.

Christine whirled around at the lack of sound.

She looked around. Erik was nowhere to be seen. Her smile disappeared from her face as she searched the lake.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, something broke through the water behind her, and before she could react, Erik had burst out of the water and wrapped his hands around her, preventing her from escaping.

Christine giggled as Erik laughed in her ear.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

"Now, I _will_ give you something to laugh for!" he said.

He instantly began tickling the sides of her chest madly, causing her to laugh loudly.

"No! Stop it!" she said between laughs. But he didn't stop. He tickled her nonstop, until she gasped out for breath. He gave it a rest to let Christine regain air.

Erik turned her slowly around, her dress flowing with the water.

He wrapped his hands around her waist as she gazed at him, a smile playing on her lips as she panted.

"You…are…evil,…" she said jokingly, between gasps. She wrapped her arms around his neck

"Yes, I'm a mean little person." He said, chuckling.

She giggled and looked right into his eyes.

She admired his face, his beautiful blue-green eyes gleaming with happiness, his cheek flushed from the effort he had done of swimming, his hair tangled with water dripping from the bangs. Water slid gracefully down his white, porcelain mask.

Her smile faltered.

"Erik…" she said silently.

"Yes?" he asked quietly.

"Can I steal from you a kiss?" she asked simply.

Erik was taken off guard.

"W-What?" he inquired.

"I asked if I could steal from you one of these…" she left her sentence incomplete, for she had leaned forward and had kissed him passionately in the lips.

Erik's eyes grew wide. He staggered a bit. But responded to the kiss.

After a few seconds, they broke the kiss, each staring into the other's eyes.

"I…uh…" Erik stammered, "F-from now on. Y-you can steal... all you want." He smiled sheepishly.

She laughed at this.

"Very well…"

She leaned forward again, and they locked their lips in a passionate kiss, wanting never to break off, wanting to remain in one another's arms for a long time.

* * *

Feri- 3rd chapter done! Finally got over with it! I spent 1 week and a half in thinking what to write for the 3rd chapter. It was not that bad in my opinion. (Blushes) ooooh…fluffiness.

Erik- I quite liked this chapter.

Feri- Why am I not surprised? (smirks)

Erik- (blushes)

Feri- Anyways. I would like to tell you, my fellow readers, that I might not update in some time. I start bimonthly exams next week and they're gonna be like hell ;;

Erik- WHAT? What do you mean you won't update in a long time? (some random rant)

Feri- Oh, chill out. ¬¬ (shoves a Snicker chocolate up his mouth)

Erik- Fwat the..?- (munches on chocolate) Hey…this is really good!

Feri- glad you liked it…(hugs)

Erik- yum… yum yum… you got more?

Feri- Er…yes… wait a second. (Takes another bar out of her pocket) Here ya go.

Erik- Thank you! (Rips off the wrapper and eats chocolate)

Feri- Er…anyways… Please excuse my grammar errors. As I have stated before, English is my second language, so I'm not good enough at it, but I like to write my stories in English.

Anyways. Please Review! If you leave reviews I'll feel more bound to update faster!

Erik- If you don't review, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur!

Feri- Don't be so dramatic… ¬¬

Erik- Sorry…

Feri- Review!


	4. Chapter 4: There's more in this world

**"L' Ange de la Musique" **

**Chapter 4**

**"There's more in this world…"**

* * *

Erik and Christine got out of the water, with their clothes dripping while they laughed merrily.

Erik turned to look at her; his smile faded abruptly when he caught a glimpse of Raoul's engagement ring on Christine's finger. It shone brightly under the candlelight.

Reality dawned on him painfully, snapping him out of his reverie. She was a married woman. She belonged to someone else. What was he thinking!

Christine wrapped her arms around his neck lovingly, but he didn't seem to respond. He was deeply lost in his thoughts.

"Erik?" she said, as she felt Erik's cold unresponsiveness. "What's wrong?"

She leaned forward, as if to kiss him again, when he suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her away gently.

He looked away, not daring to meet her inquiring eyes.

"Is something wrong?" she asked curiously.

Erik just returned his gaze to her beautiful, chestnut eyes. He felt the sadness shroud him. He would never have her. No matter how hard he tried. She was engaged, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He cast the gleaming, golden ring a fleeting look before turning his gaze away. Christine was aware of this and scoffed.

"Is it because of this?" she asked frowning, lifting her hand and showing him her finger with the golden ring.

Erik didn't answer; he just strolled away to his organ. He sat silently on the bench and placed his fingers on the keyboard for a moment. He then began playing a slow melody full of melancholy.

"Erik, please…" Christine pleaded.

But he didn't listen; he didn't even budge. He continued to play the song, pretending Christine wasn't there.

Christine sighed and walked towards him, stepping beside him. But Erik ignored her still.

Frowning, Christine placed her hands above his, interrupting his playing. He stopped, but didn't even look at her. He withdrew his hands from under hers and placed them quietly on his knees. He turned his head away, to evade her stare.

"Please! Erik!" Christine exclaimed exasperated, "You're behaving so childishly!"

Well, as far as he was concerned, she was the one acting childishly. Playing games of make-believe, living in dreams that just couldn't be, making him dwell in fantasies that were far from being true, making him relive those pleasant thoughts which he knew would never happen, toying with his feelings.

He just let out a deep sigh as a response. He felt his eyes burning with unshed tears.

Christine walked behind him, across the bench, and to the other side to face him. And before he could do anything, she cupped his face in her hands to prevent him from dodging her even further.

He fought back tears as hard as he could as she looked compassionately at him.

"Erik, what is upsetting you?" she asked, "Is it this meaningless ring what makes you act so helpless?"

He didn't answer. He just stared into her eyes, her tender touch sending sweeps of warmth through his body.

"Erik, answer me!" she said, desperately "Is this ring the reason of your melancholy?"

His answer: a tiny, single tear that trickled silently downs his cheek, as he gazed at her.

"Oh, Erik, "she said, as realization hit her, "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't love him? He means nothing to me anymore."

And as if to prove her point, Christine took off her ring and held it in front of him.

"As far as I'm concerned," she said calmly, "I'm not engaged to him anymore."

She then threw the ring with force into the air. The ring went flying across the ceiling, landing with a soft _plop _in the water. It sank deeper and deeper, until it was out of sight.

Erik's gaze lingered on the spot the ring had disappeared into. He just felt something sit beside him.

Christine had sat on the bench next to him, smiling to him weakly. He returned his stare at her, lost for words. Another silent tear trickled down his cheek.

Christine wiped it away gently with her hand, and she stared deep into his eyes.

"Erik…" she said, as she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him, whispering into his ear. "I love you so much… I don't care if you don't believe me. But I love you."

Erik was stunned. He hesitantly returned the embrace softly. He pondered for a few seconds, digesting everything she had said.

He suddenly tightened his arms around her and broke crying into her shoulder. It had been a long time since he had cried like this. He silently cried his soul out, his body trembling slightly. The tears fell freely down his cheeks, a feeling of liberty coursing his body. Christine rubbed his back comfortingly with her right hand, and with her left, she stroked his head softly, running her fingers through his wet, black hair.

She broke the embrace and stared into his tear-filled eyes. She wiped away the remaining tears lightly.

She slowly moved her hand to the right side of his face.

She ran her fingers down his mask, tracing every curve, feeling the coldness of the porcelain.

She abruptly grabbed the edge of the mask and ripped it off in a swift movement.

Erik gave a gasp, but it came out as a muffled sound as Christine pressed her lips to his, locking them in a kiss.

She wrapped her hands around his neck and let go of the mask. It fell with a soft _thump_ on the bench's cushion.

Christine felt Erik's fresh, warm tears slide down her lips, as he returned the kiss willingly, wrapping his arms around her and closing his eyes.

After some minutes, they tentatively broke apart, looking into each other's eyes.

Erik's tears had dried, but his eyes were still red from the crying. Christine stroked the marred side of his face affectionately without any sign of feeling repulsion or any of the sort.

She smiled tenderly at him and he returned the smile shakily.

Christine gradually turned her gaze to the organ. She ran her fingers over the keys, caressing them delicately.

"Erik…" she said all of a sudden, "Will you play something for me?"

"Certainly" he said, a bit taken aback, "what do you want me to play for you?" He turned to face the organ.

"Anything…something beautiful; One of your masterpieces." She said. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed.

He nodded; he then took his mask and placed it on his face.

Christine looked at him disapprovingly.

"I'm sorry. But it makes me feel more comfortable." He said, when he noticed her look.

Christine nodded in understanding and turned her gaze back to the organ.

Erik placed his fingers on the keys and began to play a soft melody. His fingers danced across the keyboard graciously, barely touching them, but the sound came out strongly from the windpipes, the music reverberating in the room.

As the song continued, getting stronger as it reached its climax, Christine began recognizing it.

"Wait…is it…?" she began.

"_We've passed the Point of no… Return…"_ Erik sang, answering her unfinished question, and ending the song with a soft arpeggio.

She smiled as the memories returned to her. She remembered the huge stage. She remembered how in that moment, when they sang together, it seemed as if only the both of them existed, no outer world.

But she had felt the anxiety radiating strongly from the audience, especially from Mme.Giry, the managers, and Raoul as they hit the peak of the song, up in the bridge.

The Managers. Andre and Firmin, the nervous, yet funny, managers. Mme.Giry, the woman that was like a mother to Christine. Raoul…she shook away the mere memory of him, scoffing in her mind.

Suddenly, something came to her mind when she though of the managers and the stage.

"Did you ever return to the Opera?" she asked him out of the blue.

"W-what?" Erik inquired at her sudden question.

"Did you ever return to the Opera?" she repeated.

"Sometimes..." he said, sighing, "I rarely did. Just to watch some of the operas if I felt like it. But I hardly ever did, just after the fire accident."

"The fire accident?" she questioned, she had forgotten, but then remembered. "What happened after that?"

"Well, as you may remember, the chandelier fell after I cut the chain." He said, without the slightest bit of remorse, "It exploded and the Opera began burning. Just shortly after you left and I disappeared from the mob, the fire was put down. The Opera was gravely damaged, but it was reconstructed some months later after that. Luckily, my lair didn't suffer any damage at all, which allowed me to return without having to face any serious material loss."

Christine watched him intently as he told everything, just as a child watched her father read her a bedtime story.

"No one ever came down again, thinking I was gone. Mme.Giry made up a story of my death. She said that, when I fled, I went to a faraway place to seek refuge, and that some bounty hunters killed me there when they found me. Everyone believed the story, for my fortune. It was then that it was safe for me to return. I watched as they reconstructed the Opera. I sometimes sneaked on the blueprints when no one was watching and added a few…er…_personal_…touches." He said grinning.

"After they finished reconstructing, I managed to rebuild much of my old trapdoors, plus some new, thanks to the changes I did in the blueprints. Everyone was oblivious to these minor changes in the plans. After all, they thought the Opera Ghost was finally gone, so they had no care in the world."

"I haunted them no longer, following the story of my own death. I hid in the shadows as I usually did, and once in a while crept into one of the vacant boxes to watch the performances. I must say, without you, they were utter rubbish. After the production I just went to one of my trapdoors nearby and disappeared back into my lair."

"It's awful to be hiding all the time. You must've been very lonely." She said sadly. "It must be dreadful to live down here, all alone."

"I'm used to it …" he said idly.

"My only companies were my music and Mme.Giry. I saw Mme.Giry often, she brought me food and supplies, since I no longer receive any salary."

As Erik fell silent, Christine thought deeply. Then, an idea occurred to her.

"Erik, I know it sounds crazy," she said, straightening up and looking at him. "But, what if you showed up? Had you ever tried working for the Opera? You could work and earn money in a decent way."

"Whoa! Slow down there!" Erik said, surprised at her outrageous suggestion. "Work for the Opera? Christine! They think I am dead! Even if they knew I lived, they would hate me still! They would call the police right away the moment they saw me set foot in their office!"

"Maybe if we talked with them, that could be settled…" she said reasonably, "You know, explain everything, tell them what happened, you apologize to them…"

"Apologize?"

"Yes Erik, apologize, for all the… _incidents… _you caused"

Erik gave a desperate sigh.

"Christine…" he said, trying to sound calm. He stood up from the bench and looked down at her. "Think of this…"

" '**The Phantom of the Opera, who supposedly was dead, Returns'**…that would make wonderful headlines!" he said sarcastically.

Christine scowled at him.

"Phantom..." he said coolly, raising his left index finger, "Managers…" he lifted his right index finger, "Together…" he brought together both his index fingers in one straight line. "DING! WRONG!" he split the fingers apart brusquely, then returning them together and crossing them in an '_X'_. "Not a very good idea!"

"Come on, Erik." She tried to say.

"Christine! They _LOATHE _me!" he said downhearted, "It's always been that way! Ever since I was a child, everybody has despised me! Even my own mother…"

He fell silent and Christine looked sympathetically at him.

"They never gave me a chance…" he said, miserably.

"That could change… Not everybody is like those people from your past."

"Christine, I became known as The Phantom not because I named myself that, but because that was what they made of me: a heartless, haunting ghost that roamed the dark corners of the Opera. They feared me. They _hated_ me."

"Erik, please, you haven't even tried!" Christine said, "Give them a chance!"

"They gave _me_ none!" he snapped.

"Because you didn't let them!" Christine answered. "You always kept yourself in your little turtle shell, isolated from everybody! You didn't even give them a chance to know you! Stop dwelling in the past Erik! Not everybody is as cold-blooded as those people who mistreated you in your youth, because of your face!"

She found herself standing too.

"There's also compassion, love, and understanding in that world which you dread, Erik, not only loathing and fear. Just look at Meg, look at Mme. Giry… Look at _me_."

Erik looked at her helplessly. This was not a good idea. There was no difference; they would treat him as a crazy maniac the moment he dared to show up.

"Christine, I…" He began.

"Erik, please…" she interrupted, standing in front of him, "You cannot stay here and let your life be lived for you… There are so many things out there to discover, so many joys, so many wonderful things. Please Erik, do it for me…

Erik sighed, giving in.

"I…I'll try…. But what will happen if everything goes wrong? What will happen if I don't convince them?"

"We can only hope for the best. Every dark cloud has a silver lining… always remember that."

She placed her hands on his chest reassuringly, while smiling at him.

"Please promise me you'll try…" she said, almost pleadingly.

"I'll do, as long as you promise me you'll be beside me." He said, placing his own hands over hers.

"You can count on it." She said in a soft voice.

"Then, I promise. For you."

* * *

"I have to find her…" Raoul said exasperated, as he rested his arms on the table.

"Then why don't you ask the police to help you?" asked a good old friend of Raoul, Gaston de Beaumont.

(1) He was a tall, skinny man, slightly hunchbacked. He was some years older than Raoul, about 5 decades or so. Raoul's father was a good friend with this guy. Even if Raoul's father was a great, honest man, he didn't posses a very good judge of character. This man's face was a decrepit one, a thin, long face, with sunken cheeks. His features were full of wrinkles, and there were bags under his gaunt eyes. His eyes were sad, droopy eyes, and they had a suspicious look to them. He had an almost lipless smile. His bony hands resembled that of a carcass; the top of his head was bald, the thin strands of grayish-white hair falling down at shoulder length.

In short, his appearance made him seem as one of the untrustworthiest persons you'll ever meet.

This man was also the owner of one of the most infamous mental hospitals in Paris, hence his bad reputation.

Gaston crossed his arms and pondered. The flames in the fireplace cracked merrily. Shadows danced across the walls as both of them talked through the silence in the room.

"Call the police? I'm afraid I can't, Gaston." Raoul said bitterly.

"And why is that, my friend?" asked old Gaston.

"If the police got involved, Christine would speak, and I can't afford to lose my good reputation as Vicomte." He said, "I would dishonor the family. I have an image to preserve."

"Oh, I see…" Gaston said with a grin. "Then why did you call me for?"

"I called you to ask you a favor…" Raoul's voice turned into a whisper, "I need you to station some of your men all across Paris, to watch out in case Christine decides to appear. Think you could do that for me?"

"I guess I could… "

"But I don't want them attracting any attention, I want them to go unnoticed."

"That, though, would take a fee. It takes a price to buy my men's silence." Gaston smirked.

"You're such a dirty rat…" Raoul said with a small smile.

"It's that or you will never have her…is that what you want?" Gaston teased.

Raoul sighed, "Fine, have it your way then…"

Raoul then took a bag full of golden coins out of his belt. He slid the bag across the table towards Gaston, who took it eagerly.

"We have a deal then, Monsieur Chagny." Gaston said, "I would station some of my men in the borders of the city, just in case if our little friend decides to abandon the town. The rest will be posted in public places."

"Fine… Excellent." Raoul muttered. "When they find her, send immediate word to me."

"You can count on me and my men, Monsieur…" Gaston said, standing up, taking the bag of money and placing it on his coat's pocket.

Gaston nodded, Raoul nodded back. Gaston turned on his heels and walked out of the room, leaving Raoul to sink in his thoughts.

(2)Finally, Raoul spoke into the air, "You can't hide forever, Christine. No matter how many weeks, months, or years pass by, I will never stop searching for you."

He stood up and walked to the fireplace, standing in front of it. He looked at the mantelpiece and noticed a bright, red rose posed in there.

He took the rose softly and examined it.

"No one ever leaves me. Let alone, you." He suddenly crushed the rose in his hand, grinding the soft petals, the stem crunching under the pressure.

"You're mine…"

He threw the remnants of the rose to the fire. They burned, the cracking getting louder. The stem and petals became ash in a matter of seconds.

Raoul watched the burning flames, with an evil grin on his face.

* * *

"I still think it's a bad idea…" Erik muttered, as Christine fixed a blood-red handkerchief on his shirt's neck

Erik and Christine had changed to dry clothes now. Erik dressed up in the most formal, black outfit he had, looking presentable, while Christine dressed up in a beautiful short-sleeved, cream dress.

"Oh, come on, Erik. There's no turning back now." She said as she finished fitting Erik's handkerchief neatly in his shirt's scruff.

"Remind me again why did I agree on doing this?" he asked.

"Because it's for your own good, and because I asked you to." She said simply.

"I go for the second one..." He said, smiling.

She smiled. Her smile faltered when she noticed Erik's insecure gaze.

"Promise me that you won't turn back, Erik." She pleaded,

"I won't…" he responded.

"_Promise me that all you say is true, that's all I ask of you…" _she sang softly.

And before Erik knew it, he was singing too.

"_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you_," he sang gently, "_Share each day with me, each night, each morning_."

He looked deep into her eyes, cupping her face in both his hands.

"_Say you love me_…" he sang.

"_You know I do_…" she sang back.

And they both sang.

"_Love me, that's all…I…ask... of…you…" _they both ended in a whisper.

They both leaned forward slowly, looking into each other's eyes with love.

Finally, their lips met, and hey kissed gently, closing their eyes.

They stood there a few seconds before they broke apart.

"We should get going…" Christine said, changing the subject abruptly.

"Y-yes…" Erik agreed. He then beckoned her to the gondola.

Christine strode to the gondola and Erik helped her in. He climbed up himself and started rowing.

As they drifted through the water, the mist closed in on them. They had passed the portcullis and headed now to where Caesar, the horse, was.

They reached the shore and Erik once again helped Christine out.

Caesar greeted them with a friendly neigh, thrusting his head up and down. Erik patted his strong neck, stroking his pitch-black mane.

Christine, meanwhile, stroked his nose. Caesar sniffed and Christine giggled. Caesar then proceeded on nibbling Christine's hair, deeply interested in these strange, hairy, curly things.

"Now, Caesar, it's not time to play now. We have to go to the surface as fast as possible." Erik said, almost seriously.

Caesar stopped nibbling and neighed affirmatively. Caesar then did something Christine had never seen a common horse do; He kneeled. He kneeled in front of her, bending his legs in a reverential manner, lowering his head.

Christine looked, confused, at him.

"He's beckoning you to mount him. Since you're a lady, he thinks it easier for you to mount him if he kneels." Erik explained.

"Oh…" Christine exclaimed, aghast. This horse was as clever as his master, Christine thought.

Christine mounted Caesar with Erik's help. When she was settled, Caesar hastily stood up, shaking his head, his mane flying.

Erik then mounted him with extreme ease, settling himself behind Christine.

Erik stretched his arms, brushing past her shoulders, as he reached out for the reins. He leaned forward, his chin resting on Christine's shoulder. Suddenly, he lost all concentration and interest on the reins. He closed his eyes for a second, inhaling Christine's soft perfume of lavender. He nuzzled against her neck, feeling her soft, warm skin. He felt her shiver slightly at his touch.

Christine giggled at this, her cheeks turning pinkish.

Erik grinned. He loved when Christine laughed. It was music for his ears.

He drew his hands back and placed them on the crook of her neck. He caressed it, sending shivers through Christine's body. He caressed her neck gently, just as he had done in Don Juan Triumphant, up and down, softly, and tenderly. He then ran his hands down her shoulders, and down her arms, and rested them on her hips. He wrapped his hands around her waist, hugging her to him.

She could feel his beating heart pumping rapidly against her back, and the warmth radiating from his body. Christine got lost in his touch and sighed.

Erik leaned over and kissed her lovingly on the neck.

Christine leaned back, lifting her face, giving him space. She closed her eyes and heaved a soft moan. He kissed her again, sending sweeps of warmth coursing her body.

He slowly began to climb up her neck, giving her slow, gentle kisses in the process.

He stopped at her jawbone and opened his eyes.

Christine opened her eyes too at the lack of his touch. Why had he stopped? She turned her head slowly towards him.

She met his blue-green eyes, staring back at her. She noticed his timid gaze, and smiled at him.

She lifted her arm back and placed it on the back of his head. She pushed his head slightly forward, towards her.

He was aware of her intentions and complied more than willingly.

He leaned forward. Christine closed her eyes yearningly.

Erik closed his eyes too, leaning closer.

Their lips were just a few millimeters apart. They grew closer and closer…until…

Caesar neighed impatiently, thrusting his head, snapping them out of their reverie.

They both looked at each other before straightening. Both blushed furiously as they regained their composure.

Erik cursed Caesar in his mind for his lack of subtleness.

(3)"_T'a seulement dâ ç faire ça, n'est pas_?" Erik mumbled irritably to Caesar.

Caesar seemed to understand French, for he snorted happily, as if laughing. Christine laughed too, and Erik just rolled his eyes.

"I see… there seems to be a complot against me. Never trust horses, or women." He said jokingly. "You two had this planned, didn't you?" he said, referring to Christine and Caesar.

"Yes. Your horse and I had a plot against you." Christine said playfully. Caesar neighed in agreement.

Erik laughed.

Suddenly, they heard something coming from above. Music. They were rehearsing, and by the sound of it, they were rehearsing for Hannibal.

"Oh, not again…" Christine said. Hannibal just reminded her of Carlotta and her ear-piercing singing, not a very nice thought.

"Why so apathetic, _Mon ange_?" Erik asked, "Have you forgotten that Hannibal was the play that made you truly famous in your debut?"

"No. It's not the play itself, what bothers me." Christine said, "Lets just say it brings bad memories of a certain someone with an ear-splitting voice."

Erik chuckled, "Carlotta, you mean?"

"Yes. That horrible woman. She was dreadful." Christine said.

"You needn't to worry about her. She left, long time ago." Erik said, smirking.

"She left?" Christine inquired, "Why?"

Erik's smile disappeared.

"It was because of the circumstances, and I'm afraid they were my doing." He said, sadly.

"What? What do you mean?" Christine asked, "What circumstances?"

"Remember Ubaldo Piangi?" he asked.

"Yes. He was a nice man. He was a great soprano too, and a bit chubby." She answered.

"Yes."

"What does he have to do with the circumstances?"

"Christine…" he began, nervously, "In the Don Juan Triumphant Opera… I…I… I killed him."

Christine gasped, "You…killed...him?" she said, eyes wide.

"Yes… And that's why Carlotta left. She didn't take it very well."

"Oh, Erik… " she began, "Why did you do it?"

"Christine… I was not thinking at that moment," he tried to defend himself, "I was not reasoning. I was not thinking of the consequences when I did what I did. I was… Mad with love." He ended, dropping his gaze.

They both stood in silence. Mad with love. He was madly in love with her. Now she understood the nature of his past actions. Now she understood.

He felt his heart return to its normal pumping rate.

Erik cleared his throat, breaking the silence, and reached out for the reins, brushing over Christine's arms. He took hold of the reins tightly.

"Hiya!" Erik exclaimed. Caesar instantly neighed and reared, standing on his back legs. He trashed his front legs strongly, and he broke into full gallop through the hallways.

As the horse ran, Christine felt herself slipping from the saddle; she took hold of Caesar's mane to avoid falling. She felt something take hold of her waist, preventing her from descending even further. It was Erik's arm. He handled the rein with his free arm, while holding Christine with the other one.

Some minutes later, Caesar began to slow down as he reached a grand, circling staircase that led to a floor above.

The horse ran into a halt in front of the steps.

Erik dismounted in a swift jump. He then wrapped his arms around Christine's waist, lifting her off Caesar's back and lowering her to the ground gently.

He then took her hand and led her to the staircase. Christine gave Caesar a hasty stroke before following Erik. Caesar gave a soft neigh of delight.

They climbed the staircase until they reached the hallway with the golden candelabra.

They walked through it, with the candles flickering vividly in the walls.

They finally reached the end of the Hall. In front of them, stood the huge mirror that led to Christine's room.

Erik approached the mirror, and began examining the bricks on either side of it. He then found what he was looking for. He lowered a hidden lever and the mirror slid open.

* * *

Raoul strolled rapidly to the door, arranging the scruff of his coat. He wanted to check out if someone had seen Christine in the last place he checked 3 days ago.

The maids looked curiously at him. What was his great urge?

He walked through the door and to the waiting elegant, black carriage outside, which bear the Chagny family crest.

He opened the door and sat inside.

He closed the door and spoke to the coach driver through the tiny window.

"To the Opera Popullaire!"

The coach driver nodded and urged his horses to start moving.

They snorted and trotted out of the mansion and into the streets of France, their hooves clacking on the stone road.

He looked out the window, his face in a pensive expression.

In the sea of thoughts that swirled in his mind, a tiny voice, barely audible, whispered:

_Why? Why did I do it?_

And his mind drifted into the memory of the night he had lost Christine. Why had he treated her like this? It was not like him. What possible explanation was hidden behind his violent reaction?

And the tiny voice answered, in a faint murmur:

_Fear…_

(4) Fear? Fear of what? He pondered, and he answered himself:

He was afraid of losing her. Losing her forever…

That fear had blinded him and had transformed him in a real monster. A monster… just like…. just like… That man. That ghost.

He was behaving just like him. How low had he fallen? Since when had he become so possessive? So…obsessive?

He would apologize the moment he found her; apologize for the suffering he had caused her.

That night, he had seen the deep fear in her eyes. She had never looked at him that way, and this hurt him. He also saw the hatred swimming in her eyes at what he had done.

He didn't blame her for being angry with him. He just hoped she would forgive him.

* * *

Erik let Christine go first through the mirror, and then he followed. 

Everything was silent, and the candles were all blown out. The sunlight filtered through the window in Christine's room, warming up the place.

"Come…" Christine muttered, as she turned around and stretched out her hand so he would take it.

He tentatively took Christine's hand, and looked at her.

"Everything's going to be fine…" she said encouragingly.

"I just hope you're right…" he whispered.

She smiled at him warmly and headed to the door, Erik walking behind her, with their fingers entwined.

Christine opened the door quietly and slowly.

She peeked around, looking down the hallway to see anyone was lurking about, but it was completely deserted.

_How curious_, Christine thought, _the Opera is usually crowded with dancers and performers_.

"It's a good thing it's Sunday, isn't it?" Erik stated with relief.

"Sunday?" she inquired. She had lost the notion of time down in the lair; she hadn't realized what day of the week it was.

"Yes, Sunday." Erik said, "My, my, are we in the clouds today?"

"I had too much in my mind to even care of knowing on which day of the week we were!" she said defensively.

"I see." He said with comprehension.

"Let's get going." She said as she dragged him down the hallway towards the managers' office.

They climbed up the stairs, dread getting stronger in Erik's insides as they grew nearer to the office.

They strolled through another set of hallways and, much to Erik's displeasure, they reached the office in no time.

"We can still go back, you know? No one would know…" Erik said.

"Don't be such a coward! We've come this far!" she said defiantly. "Now shut up, and let me do the talking."

Erik sighed, as Christine reached out for the doorknob.

"Women…" he muttered under his breath, crossing his arms.

"Men are such babies." She said, half to herself, half to Erik.

Erik responded by simply rolling his eyes in impatience

"Please wait here. I'll go inside first to talk to them." She informed him.

"Be my guest." He said, deep anxiety in his voice as he dropped his gaze.

He reclined on the wall beside the door, his arms crossed and his head down. He looked so helpless, so fearful. She had never seen him this way.

"Erik," she began, a soft tone in her voice, "I promise nothing wrong is going to happen. Please do brighten up." She rubbed his arm comfortingly, but his nervous expression was still there.

(5) "_Ne vous inquiétez pas_." She whispered. She then gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek before turning back to the door.

(6) "_Je…" _Erik whispered, "_Je pas."_

Christine gave him a fleeting smile before turning her gaze back to the door. She turned the doorknob slowly.

Erik saw how Christine's form drifted into the room. He held his breath, hoping for the best.

* * *

"Oh, Andre!" Firmin said, "We're going into the dumps!"

"Calm down, Firmin!" Monsieur André retorted from the couch.

"We have to admit it!" Firmin said, "Ever since Carlotta left we've been falling lower and lower! The seats are not selling as much as they did before!"

"My dear friend, ever since _Miss Daaé_ left, is when we've been falling lower and lower." André stated the obvious. He sipped on his tea as he saw Firmin pacing the floor, his hands behind his back and worry in his gaze.

"We might have to close the Opera!" Firmin screamed, "Close it!"

"I daresay we were better with the Phantom than off without him." André said calmly.

"André! What nonsense do you speak!" Firmin said alarmed, "Better with that ghost that without him?"

André nodded and sipped on his tea again.

"Why, yes! We were better with his doings!" Firmin continued, throwing his arms in the air, "Had he not murdered two people, we could've have thought he was a genius!"

"He was mad, I understand," André said, "But some of his choices were good, nonetheless."

Firmin gave an angry grunt. He was about to speak again, had he not heard the door creaking open.

Both managers turned to see who was the one who intruded, breaking in their discussion, but their eyes brightened up as they saw the familiar face of their former diva star.

Christine came in, with her eyes glowing brightly. They had not lost the innocence that they had held the first time the managers had seen her.

Her face was still that of a child's, rosy cheeks flushing over a bright, welcoming smile.

"Miss Daaé!" they both exclaimed, André getting up from the couch in a swift movement.

She smiled timidly at them as she stood on the door. André and Firmin surveyed her intently, until Firmin spoke.

"Miss Daaé! It's such a pleasure to see you!" he said, "Oh! My mistake! I mean… Mrs. Chagny."

Christine cringed and her smile faltered. Her eyes wandered on the wall, and she hesitantly returned her gaze back to the two.

André sensed this sudden uncomfortable reaction and changed the subject.

"What brings you here, Miss?" André asked politely.

"Oh. Yes, about that." She said, a bit nervous herself. "I wanted to talk about something with you."

"Do tell! Anything you need!" André said eagerly. He had grown very fond of this girl, and he would do anything she asked to.

"Yes, well…" she stuttered, "I wanted to introduce you to someone. He's a great musician, and I-I thought he might h-help you out in here."

"My, my, do introduce the man!" Firmin said, "We have many vacant positions, and new talents are always welcome!"

She managed a smile, "Glad to hear that…"

"Yes, well, he's looking for a job, and he would be very willing to apply in _any_ vacant position." She said, "He would work hard and he would do anything you tell him to do."

"Interesting," Firmin muttered, " A hard worker that would be willing to listen to any order he's given?"

"Yes." She said.

"Excellent!" André exclaimed, "And where is the man?"

"Oh. Let me go for him. " She said.

She stood on the door, her back to the managers. She stretched out her arms to someone outside.

The managers heard someone mutter something to Christine, and saw Christine nod with a smile.

They heard a deep sigh and Christine returned to the room.

As Christine stood, they saw someone enter the room slowly to stand behind her.

A tall, strong-looking man towered upon her. All dressed in black, his cloak hanging ghostly on his broad shoulders. His face was a serious, formal one. His turquoise eyes shone brightly, along with the porcelain white, half mask that rested in the right side of his face.

The Managers gaped, eyes wide, as they recognized the man.

"YOU!" they bellowed together.

* * *

(1) Just imagine the creepy, old man from Disney's "The Beauty and the Beast", the man that is talking with Gaston in a pub… hence the name Gaston XD… I'm such a loser…

Erik- Tell me something I don't know.

Feri- …. ¬¬

(2) He's a freaky fellow, isn't he? Very…possessive…

Erik- Kill le fop! o.ó

Feri- Someone feels murderous today...

Erik- -grumble grumble-

(3) "_T'a seulement dâ ç faire ça, n'est pas_?" - means: "You just had to do that, didn't you?"

(Thanks to Mayis and her father for the translation! XD)

(4) OMG! I'm actually being nice with Raoul! Dedicating a POV to Raoul o.o .The world is coming to an end!

Erik- You…you vile betrayer! O.ó Curse you! You little prying Pandora! You little viper-

Feri- -clapping her hand on his mouth- We know the rest, thank you! ¬¬

(5) "_Ne vous inquiétez pas_." - means: "Don't worry." (Note: I used an English to French translator, so it might be wrong)

_(6) __"Je pas…" _- means: "I won't" (I used the evil Translator again x,x)

_Feri- Thank you for reading! _

_Erik- And in your way out, why don't leave a review for this pathetic, good-for-nothing girl?_

_Feri- good-for…. why you little…. No more snickers for you! O.ó_

_Erik- what? NOOOO! My Snickers! TT.TT -cries-_

_Feri- So heartbreaking ; , ; …ok..you can have your Snickers back!_

_Erik- YAY! -Munches on chocolate-_

_Feri- n.n_

_Erik- -with his mouth full- And remember, no one likes a debtor so it's better if my orders are obeyed!_

_Feri- If you have no idea what he meant, he meant he wants you to leave a review._

_Erik- -munching- yeah…that…_


	5. Chapter 5: Second Chances

**"L'Ange de la Musique"**

**Chapter 5**

**"Second Chances..."**

* * *

"YOU!" The managers bellowed together. T-that man! The Phantom! The Phantom of the Opera was back? It can't be! He was gone! Wait a second… 

"Weren't you dead?" Firmin yelled.

"I…I…" Erik attempted to say something, resisting the urge to go running out the door, but Christine's hand on his arm kept him in there.

"My God! This is outrageous!" André blurted out, shocked by the sudden appearance of the supposedly dead Phantom.

Erik tried again to say something, but the nervousness got the best of him. A lump formed in his throat and he lost his voice.

Christine felt him tremble slightly and she squeezed his arm gently in an attempt to calm him up.

Erik's head was buzzing; he couldn't think clearly now, he thought of the many things that could happen in this fateful moments.

Erik had become much more emotional and carefree ever since Christine left; He had felt emotions he had never felt before he had met Christine. He could no longer keep that serious façade that adorned his visage. He was much more expressive and his soul had become void of all the awful things he had been before: A maniac, a murderer, and an obsessive person, just to name a few. And due to that new personality, Erik frequently looked at the bad side of things; he never saw that 'silver lining' on dark clouds. His mind succumbed to negative prospects; He was done for. He had reached the Point of No Return.

"If you weren't dead already, I'll make sure you are now!" Firmin yelled, furious. " Step aside Miss Daaé! We won't let him hurt you again!"

Firmin then took out a gun from his inner coat pocket. He kept this gun for safety and self defense, but the hatred he felt at that moment against that "Ghost" made him break that silent vow he had made to himself of never using it to threat a man's life.

He pointed directly at Erik's heart; André gasped, taken aback.

Erik froze in the spot; his face became drained of the color he had left. His eyes widened in fear. Fear? He had never felt fear before, but now he did, and it felt awful. He was going to get killed, he could feel it. Any moment now. He closed his eyes as sweat slipped down his forehead and down his mask. He couldn't move, his body wouldn't respond. His heart pumped madly against his chest, and his pulse was racing. He could feel a lump of dread forming in his insides with the passing of every second.

Why? Why?

Why had he agreed on this? Now he would never see Christine again. Now that he had her back, he would lose her again. He shook at that thought and waited for the worst.

"NO!" Christine screamed. She stepped in front of him, her arms flying up protectively. "No!"

"Miss Daaé! What are you doing!" Firmin asked alarmed; André was frozen in the spot too and couldn't utter a single word. "Move over!"

"No!" she screamed again, her features filled with fear; She was trembling, she didn't expect monsieur Firmin to react this way, let alone, wield a weapon against another man like this.

"Please! L-let me explain!" Christine said, alarmingly.

"There's nothing to explain! This bloody murderer has to be put down once and for all!" Firmin yelled, still pointing the weapon at Erik and Christine. "He has done too much damage as for now! We will put everyone out of their misery by finishing off this bastard!"

Erik felt his legs weaken, but he stood there, unable to move yet. He tightened his eyes and his heart was beating so strong and fast that he thought it would stop any moment. His breathing became heavy and he felt the coldness shroud him.

Christine's eyes widened at Firmin's exclaim; He was being serious about this.

"Move aside!" Firmin screamed again, his hand shaking from the rage.

"No! Please!" Christine said helplessly, as tears began pouring from her eyes, "Please don't do this!"

Firmin just looked heatedly at her. He clicked his gun menacingly, ready to shoot.

André's mind was buzzing, and was unable to react.

Christine cried hopelessly as she hugged Erik desperately, still standing in front of him in a protective way. She buried her face in his chest inconsolably. Erik could feel her fear and sadness, but his arms wouldn't budge from their position as he tried to hug her to comfort her. He could feel her trembling against his body, and could also feel her tears moistening his vest.

Finally, André found his voice and screamed out.

"FIRMIN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" he yelled outraged, "Put that gun down man!"

He snatched the gun out of Firmin's hand and threw it to a far corner of the room.

"What were you thinking!" André asked alarmed.

"André! Do you realize we could get over with this?" Firmin retorted. "We would have nothing to fear now!"

"Firmin! You git!" André said, "When we thought he was dead we were doing perfectly fine! He's been alive all along and he didn't do anything to us!"

Firmin remained silent; unable to find the words he was looking for.

"He was alive, and yet, he left us alone! He did no damage!" Andre continued, "And Miss Daaé says she has an explanation! Why don't we listen to her?"

Firmin mumbled incoherently, hatred still prominent in his voice.

Christine lifted her tear-stained face from Erik's chest as she heard André reprimand Firmin.

Still hugging Erik, Christine felt her fear subside slightly; she felt Erik tense up in her embrace.

André scoffed at Firmin who rolled his eyes and turned around, crossing his arms, his back to André and the rest.

André approached Christine cautiously; Christine hastily dried her tears and faced him.

Erik opened his eyes tentatively and relaxed when he saw that Firmin was no longer holding the gun.

Christine and Erik watched as André approached them with an embarrassed look in his face.

"Please forgive us, Miss Daaé." He said politely. "Excuse Firmin for scaring you like that." He shot an angry look to Firmin, who only scoffed, his back still to them.

Christine just nodded, and Erik looked away. He began to regain his composure, but a bit of nervousness remained. His heart started to slow down to its normal pumping rate and the lump on his throat and stomach diminished.

André took Christine's hand and kissed it. "Pardon us for our behavior."

"It-it's all right…" Christine stuttered, regaining her composure as well. "He just frightened us. That's all."

"Worry not, Mademoiselle," André said. "He will _NEVER_ brandish a weapon like that again." He shot another glance of hatred towards Firmin, who was totally being oblivious on purpose.

Silence reigned in the room, until André broke it.

"What was it that you were going to tell us, Miss?"

"Oh, about that." Christine said. She had forgotten what she had come for in the first place.

"Something about giving a job to this man?" André said.

"Yes. He would like to work for you." Christine said.

Erik heaved a great sigh and, without looking at anyone, he walked silently to one of the corners of the room and crossed his arms, his back to them, just like Firmin.

"Indeed?" André asked curiously, looking at Erik's back.

"He's a great musician and composer; He's also a great voice…teacher." She said, smiling at him, even though he still had his back turned to them.

"Is he now?" André said, "My, my, sounds really promising. But…"

At that 'but', Christine turned to him with questioning eyes.

"But… I'm afraid he has won himself a despicable reputation, Mademoiselle. He has done so many things in his past that puts our trust to the test."

Christine looked down in disappointment. Erik followed this motion too and dropped his head; He knew they would never accept him.

"I know," she said sadly, "But… he has changed! I swear he has!"

"Changed has he?" Firmin blurted out, facing them, "I'm sure he's just the same! He looks as suspicious, dark, and untrustworthy as he did before!"

Christine got angry at this remark, and before André could respond first, she said:

"Don't judge a book by its cover, monsieur!" she said angrily, frowning, "There's more inside than what the outer appearance has to show!"

Erik turned his head slightly from the shadows as he heard Christine defend him with such energy.

"You really don't expect me to accept that…that…deformed monster into our Opera?" Firmin said.

"Deformed monster!" Christine shrieked indignantly. "How dare you?" She strolled to Firmin and slapped him hard across the face.

Erik turned around, shocked; André placed his fist on his mouth, trying to stifle the laughs.

Christine knew Erik was touchy with the topic of his face's state, and now, she had become so close to him, that she was touchy about it as well; She wouldn't let anyone insult or judge Erik for how he looked like without receiving a punishment for their lack of subtleness.

"Don't you ever say that again, Monsieur!" Christine said, fuming. "You should learn to have some respect toward others less lucky than you!"

Firmin placed a hand on his red cheek and looked down at her, stunned.

"How can you say that when he was about to apologize to you?" she said.

"Apologize?" André asked.

"Christine, please…" Erik started.

"No, Erik! If you will respect them, they have to respect you too!"

"But, Christine. I-I don't mind them saying those things about m-me." He said idly, "Really."

"Please, Erik, I know more than anybody that that's not true." She said.

"But…" he muttered.

"I know you _do_ mind, and I know it upsets you." She said, smiling slightly, "And I don't want anyone hurting you. You've received way too much pain; you don't need more."

Erik looked sadly at her; why did she have to be always right?

"And now," Christine said, turning away from Erik and staring at the two managers, "He would like to say something to you."

She took Erik's hand and pulled him forward so he could talk to the managers.

Erik looked nervously at them; He glanced at Christine, who nodded encouragingly.

"I…" He began, looking at the managers, "I would like to apologize, f-for all the problems I caused you in the past."

André was about to forgive Erik when Firmin interrupted.

"You can't seriously expect us to forgive you that easily, do you?" Firmin cried.

"Firmin, shut up!" André said.

"Shut up? André, he murdered 2 people! He dropped an expensivechandelier, and set the Opera House on fire!" Firmin retorted.

Erik's stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch as Firmin mentioned the nuisances he had caused.

"I'm perfectly aware of what he did, Firmin!" André shouted. "But that was in the past! Haven't you heard everything Miss. Daaé has been saying?"

"Yes, I did! So what?"

"She said he was a changed man!"

"And you believe her!"

"Yes I do! If she were to be lying, I'm sure this man wouldn't be here! I daresay he could've killed you in a second, the moment you brandished that stupid gun out!"

Firmin looked alarmingly at André.

"He could've outwitted you easily! But did he attack you? NO!"

"What's your point?"

"I do believe he's a changed man with a wonderful potential, Firmin!" André said defiantly. "I also happen to believe in second chances! And I'm willing to give this man a second opportunity to repent on his mistakes!"

Erik and Christine were stunned; Was André really defending Erik? _The world is surely coming to an end_, Erik thought.

"Unfortunately, I do not believe in those second chances!" Firmin said.

Finally, Erik got tired of waiting in the gloom; He stepped forward and talked to both managers.

"I accept your anger at me, it's completely understandable," Erik said. "Please forgive me for the troubles I caused you, I'm deeply ashamed of my behavior. But as Christine and Monsieur André have stated, I'm a changed man. I will no longer cause you any nuisance, and I will follow every order you give me if you provide me with work."

André and Christine smiled; Firmin just stared angrily at Erik, who stared back unemotionally.

"As wounds take time to heal," Erik said, "I know it'll take time for me to gain your trust."

"My, my! That is what I call a gentleman! Not like someone I know." André said, glancing at Firmin. Firmin just rolled his eyes irritably.

"You seem to be a very respectable man! Monsieur…er… what's your name again?"

"Erik." Erik said simply.

"Oh, yes! Erik, do you have a second name?" André asked.

"I… I'm afraid I don't." Erik said.

"Oh, no problem, though!" André said happily.

André then clapped his hands together and motioned Erik and Christine out the door.

"Let's see what you can do and maybe we'll give you a job!"

"Oh, thank you so much, Monsieur André!" Christine exclaimed. She then hugged him and gave him a friendly kiss on his cheek. "You're so kind!"

André blushed and stuttered, "Well, I, well thank you, mademoiselle! If you would follow me!"

André exited the room. Erik and Christine exchanged a glance and followed; Firmin followed shortly after, still fuming, but not daring to say anything.

They descended a staircase and André led them to the stage. They passed through the seats and boxes, Erik and Christine wondered what André would ask of Erik.

André took them backstage and led them to step in front of a grand mahogany, upright piano with shining ivory keys.

André beckoned Erik forward; He stepped ahead and stood next to André, waiting for instructions.

"Miss Daaé tells us you're a great musician! It's time for you to demonstrate it!" André said, "Why don't you play something? One of your own compositions would be a good idea."

Erik turned his head back to Christine; She nodded happily and motioned him to go on.

Erik nodded back and sat on the piano's bench, smiling.

He felt the ivory keys, running his hands delicately over them, feeling their coldness.

"_No one would listen," _he sang quietly_, "No one but her, heard as the outcast hears"._

Everyone watched him as he sang those words; there was a tone of sadness in them. He then began playing a beautiful tune.

(1) As he passed the Musical Introduction, he began to sing softly while playing:

_Shamed into solitude_

_Shunned by the multitude_

_I learned to listen_

_In my dark, my heart heard music._

Everyone listened intently, especially Christine, who had watched the progression of the song throughout the days but had never heard it completely.

_I longed to teach the world, _

_Rise up and reach the world._

_No one would listen_

_I alone could hear the Music._

_Then at last, a voice in the gloom_

_Seemed to cry, "I hear you!;_

_I hear your fears_

_Your torments and your tears."_

Christine smiled; she approached him and stood behind him, looking down at him lovingly; She knew he was talking about her.

_She saw my loneliness_

_Shared in my emptiness_

_No one would listen_

_No one but her_

_Heard as the outcast hears…_

Christine placed her hand on his shoulder comfortingly as he ended the song with a set of notes and the last lyrics.

_No one would listen_

_No one but her_

_Heard as the outcast hears…_

Erik raised his hand and placed it above Christine's, on his shoulder. He smiled and dragged Christine's hand to his chest, hugging it there. Christine kissed the top of his head swiftly so the managers wouldn't see.

Suddenly, they heard clapping behind them; André was clapping enthusiastically while Firmin just gaped at him.

"Bravo! Bravo!" André exclaimed.

Erik stood and turned to the Managers, bowing his head, giving a small smile.

André approached him and shook his hand fervently.

"Congratulations Monsieur! That was fabulous!" André said, "You possess a wonderful potential! It looks like you got the job!"

Erik couldn't help but smile broadly, not only had André forgiven him and had acted nicely toward him, but he had gotten the job as well!

"Congratulations Erik!" Christine said, hugging him, "I knew you would make it!"

Erik hugged her back and muttered, "Thank you, Monsieur."

"Now we only have left to sign the papers for your job application and you can start working right away!"

Just as he said this, André made his way to his office again. Christine and Erik followed, but Erik stopped just as he passed in front of Firmin.

They looked at each other unemotionally for what seemed like an eternity.

"Thank you for giving me the job." Erik said softly without smiling or anything. He stretched out his hand for Firmin to shake, but Firmin did not respond to the gesture.

"Come on, you old crab! Show some courtesy!" Andre shouted ahead. He had watched everything.

Firmin mumbled something angrily and hesitantly lifted his arm. He took Erik's hand and shook it a single time before withdrawing his hand rapidly.

Firmin then strolled away to meet André.

"Come along, now!" André said.

Christine and Erik followed both managers up to the office again. Christine took his hand and their fingers entwined. She leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked, both of the grinning gladly.

They ascended the stairs and reached the office. As they entered, André quickly strode to his desk and withdrew some papers from a drawer, while Firmin just slumped on the coach, his arms crossed, not looking at anybody.

"Ah! Found them!" André said, waving some papers in the air. "Come here now, if you please Monsieur?"

Erik approached André and read through the papers he handed him. He read the terms, conditions, payments, vacations, holidays, etc… It looked like it was going to be good after all, just as Christine had said.

"If you agree to the terms, please sign on the line below with your name."

André handed Erik a quill and ink. Erik took the quill and dipped it in the ink. He shook the additional ink off the quill, leaned overand signed on the line: _Erik._

"You must have a second name. Are you sure you lack one, Monsieur?" André said.

"Yes."

"Why don't you use mine?" Christine suggested.

"Er…what?" Erik inquired.

"Use my second name! I don't mind." She said.

"Wonderful idea, Miss!" André said.

"Wait…Hang on!" Erik said, confused, " It-it doesn't sound right!"

"And why not?" she said, frowning playfully.

"It...It just isn't right." Erik said, failing to find an excuse.

"Don't be exaggerating! You need a second name or you won't get the job! You want to lose all you got?" she asked, "Come on! Use mine!"

Erik sighed. "Fine… I'll use your second name. But what will happen if someone finds out I used_ your _second name?"

"Don't worry, monsieur Erik, these documents are strictly confidential and no one can't see them except us, the managers."

"Then I suppose it's fine." Erik stated.

He then dipped the quill again in the ink and wrote down: _Erik Daaé_

Erik Daaé. Christine felt a tingly sensation in the pit of her stomach, so did Erik.

"Well, it seems everything is settled. You start your work on Monday; we'll introduce you to the rest of the crew in said day. Welcome aboard Monsieur Erik!" André stretched out his hand and Erik shook it.

"You forgot something, my dear partner." Firmin said from the couch. "How will we explain this to the Vicomte?"

Uh oh…

Erik and Christine were drained from all their color and turned ghostly pale as they realized that.

"Nothing to worry about! We could ask miss Daaé to talk to him for us. She could convince him, I mean, she's his wi-"

CRASH!

Just then, Christine had stumbled backwards, hitting a bureau accidentally and knocking off a flower vase in the process, which fell to the ground with a large crash. Broken flowers and water scattered on the floor.

"I- I'm so sorry…" she stammered. She bent down to pick up the flowers and clean the mess.

"Don't worry, miss, we'll have someone pick that up, don't mind that." André said, beckoning her to stand up.

She shakily stood up and glanced sideways nervously. Raoul. She had forgotten about him. If Raoul found out, he would get to her, and he would kill Erik in the process for sure.

* * *

The carriage's horses skidded into a halt outside the Opera House's magnificent entrance. Raoul opened the door and came out. 

He watched the entrance for a few moments. Could Christine be here? Most likely; it was her favorite place in the city. She had grown here after all. Raoul hoped he could find her today. He had done several searches on the Opera for the past few days, but to no avail.

He entered the edifice through the huge doors into the entrance. He stopped in the great Hall, surveying the staircase before him.

He made his way up the staircase to pay a visit to the managers, since he hadn't seen them due to the fact that they had been on a business trip earlier in the week. He would ask them if they had seen Christine.

* * *

Madame Giry walked through the Opera, making her daily checkout through the hallways and the entrances, until she heard the door opening. She peeked down the balcony she was strolling through and saw Raoul climbing up the stairs rapidly. 

"Oh no." she muttered. She knew Erik and Christine had left their hideout to get Erik a job, but she didn't know the Vicomte would come today. If Raoul found them… she didn't want to imagine what would happen. She had to stop him at all costs!

* * *

"Miss? Are you ok?" André asked her. 

"I… I also need to talk to you about something else." She said nervously.

Erik watched her intently; just as Christine was touchy about his matters, he was touchy about _her_ matters, and he knew she didn't like to talk about Raoul.

"It's about the Vicomte…" she said, "I would rather want him to know nothing about this."

"Why, if I may ask?" Firmin asked.

"Well… I…-" she started.

"She doesn't want to talk about it, ok?" Erik said impatiently, she didn't like to see Christine like this.

"I didn't ask _you_, I asked her." Firmin said irritably.

Erik stared angrily at him; with his fists clenched, he tried to control his anger. Christine knew a fight was coming and she grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Erik, wai-" Christine's voice trailed off as her eyes widened in surprise.

_"Monsieur le Vicomte, wait!" _Madame Giry's voice came from beyond the door.

The four occupants of the room turned to the door. Christine's eyes widened even more in terror; Erik just watched the door with dread; Firmin and André had a confused expression on their faces.

"Oh no… It's... Raoul…" Christine muttered, her voice breaking. "No…no...NO!"

"Shhh, Christine, calm down!" Erik shushed her.

They heard Raoul's footsteps stop beyond the door, and a hurried pace behind him.

"_Monsieur! What are you doing here_?" They heard Madame's Giry's voice again.

"_You know perfectly why I've come here, Madame, I don't know why you're asking_." Raoul's voice came, "_You know I'm here to look for Christine_."

"No... No…" Christine muttered fearfully.

"Shhhhhh Christine! It's all right!" Erik tried to calm her, but he couldn't help but feel nervous too.

"No Erik…I am not ready to face him! I'm not ready!" she said, sobbing, "I don't want him to find me! I don't want to!"

André and Firmin watched as Christine suddenly broke crying hysterically. Erik approached her and hugged her to him, shushing her.

She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. She trembled non-stop and her tears fell like rivers down her cheeks; She was terribly afraid.

"Christine! You must calm down! He'll hear you!" Erik said. He turned to the managers and motioned them to be quiet by placing his index finger upon his lips; He looked at them with pleading eyes as he hugged Christine.

André and Firmin nodded silently in understanding and waited.

"_But monsieur, we have not seen her! I told you we would call you when we saw her_!" Madame Giry's voice said behind the door.

"_I'm not a very patient person!" _Raoul said. "_I'll check on my own!"_

_"Monsieur, no! Wait!"_

Suddenly, the doorknob turned slowly.

"_MONSIEUR LE VICOMTE_!" another voice came from down the stairs, this time, of a man's.

_"What now?"_ Raoul asked with irritation.

The door was ajar, barely open, Raoul stood there, his back to them, and Christine and Erik held their breaths; Christine shuddered violently and covered her eyes by burying her face in Erik's chest, as he held her to him.

_"Someone says they had seen her sir!"_

_"What? Where?" _Raoul shouted.

"_On the edges of Paris, sir!"_

"_Take me there immediately_!" Raoul yelled.

The door closed with a bang and they heard footsteps heading down the stairs hurriedly.

Erik sighed in relief. Christine lifted her head a bit. He was gone, they were safe again.

Erik looked down at Christine, who was still clinging to him, but she didn't look well; She was pale and her eyes were immensely wide, sweat dripped from her forehead and she shivered uncontrollably.

"Christine?" Erik muttered, preoccupied.

Suddenly, Christine eyes rolled up her head and she passed out; Erik couldn't catch her properly on time and she fell backwardsto the floor, which, luckily, was covered by rug.

"CHRISTINE!" Erik said alarmed. He kneeled besides her, holding her head in his lap.

He fanned her with his hand desperately in an attempt to wake her up. Just then, Mme. Giry entered the room, looking really shocked.

"He's gone…" she said, she then noticed Christine's limp form on the floor and gasped, "What happened?"

"She passed out!" Erik screamed, still fanning her. Madame Giry took out her fan and helped Erik out.

"Get some water! Quick!" Madame Giry yelled at the managers.

André and Firmin, who stood shocked at the spectacle in front of them, just looked at her curiously.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get the water! Don't stare at me like some pair of zombies!" she yelled angrily.

André was the first one to react and he hurriedly filled a glass with water from a jug that lay in the desk.

He brought the glass to Madame Giry. She took it and motioned to Erik to lift Christine's head; He lifted her face and lowered her lip a bit with his thumb, opening her mouth slightly.

Mme. Giry poured a bit of water into her mouth carefully. Erik rubbed her throat gingerly to stimulate it to swallow the water.

Erik felt her muscles move under his touch, meaning she swallowed the liquid.

Her eyes snapped open and she suddenly started coughing; a lot; she began suffocating and gasped for air desperately but to no avail. She closed her eyes in pain as she wheezed and panted for air.

Erik lifted her head in alarm to diminish the coughing.

But she didn't cease.

Erik saw her face turn paler, and her chest heaved rapidly up and down. She was still afraid; she had received a terrible shock from hearing Raoul's voice and him almost entering the room where she was. It had been too much for her.

"Christine! Calm down!" Mme. Giry screamed, terrified, for Christine took big, long gasps of air.

This was not normal suffocating! She was hyperventilating! This was not good!

(2) Erik rapidly sat on the floor and dragged Christine to him. He placed her in between his legs and reclined her upper body over his chest, his legs at either side of her. He tried to calm her down by shushing her but it didn't work.

Christine's hands flew up and she clutched the cloth of his cloak strongly, the pain she was feeling was becoming utterly unbearable and she could hardly breathe, giving searing gasps as she tried to regain back air. She took hold of his right knee with her right hand and squeezed it harshly, sending stinging pain through Erik's body as she sank her nails on his skin involuntarily, but he resisted the pain; she wriggled and turned in there, trying to ease the pain, but it was useless.

He pressed her against his chest and placed his hands on her abdomen, at the level of the diaphragm, just beneath her breasts. He felt her chest heaving rapidly.

He leaned over and began whispering soothing words in her ear.

"Shhh.. It's all right Christine… Calm down… He's gone…" he whispered softly. She seemed to hear him, because she gave a confirming, soft tug on his cape with her left hand.

Mme. Giry, André, and Firmin watched how Erik tried to calm Christine, and they hoped he would accomplish it.

Mme. Giry could've sworn she had seen tears forming in Erik's eyes, but he blinked and they were gone.

"Now, breathe with me." He whispered to her, "Follow me, and follow my chest. Feel it. Sense it, follow it, slowly."

He took deep breaths to demonstrate Christine how to breathe properly. They could tell she was trying, because she frowned, her eyes still closed, as she tried to ease the heaving of her chest. Her hands still clutched Erik's cloak and knee in despair.

Erik spoke words of soothing nature in her ear as she worked hard to breathe correctly.

Then, finally, her chest's heaving began to alleviate, returning to its normal rate, until she at last managed to take in air in a normal way.

She took one big gulp of air and gave a strong sigh.

Her body relaxed and her grasp on Erik's cloak and kneeweakened.

She opened her tear-filled, tired eyes and looked up to stare at Erik. She looked at him for a moment.

Erik, not caring that the managers and Mme. Giry where watching, kissed her forehead comfortingly. She managed a weak, small smile, which faded almost immediately. She closed her eyes again and her arms fell limply to the floor. She fell asleep out of exhaustion.

Erik sighed in relief and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her. She breathed normally now and she slept peacefully in Erik's arms.

Erik then was aware of the trio watching him and turned his head to Firmin angrily.

"Now you know why she doesn't want him to know."

Firmin lowered his face in shame, while André looked shockingly at Christine's sleeping figure. Madame Giry sighed tiredly.

"You should take her to rest, Erik."

Erik nodded. He stood up and carefully picked Christine up in his arms; she didn't wake up.

"We'll talk about this later, when she feels better…" Erik said to the managers, "… and when she feels like talking about it." He directed this to Firmin, who turned his gaze away.

"I must continue my daily check then. Good evening, gentlemen." Mme. Giry said as she left the room in a hurry.

"I must go too, to check on Christine." Erik said, holding Christine's body like a crystal, delicate object, gently and tenderly. "I'll return later to clear this out."

Andre nodded, Firmin didn't even budge. Erik made his way to the door, when he stopped.

"By the way…" he said, "Thank you again for the job. I won't disappoint you; I assure you." And he left the room.

Both managers stared at Erik's retreating figure, and André sighed.

"He is a good man after all." André said. "You see, Firmin? You jumped to conclusions too fast."

"Yes…I see now." Firmin said, his gaze on the floor, "I mustn't judge a book by its cover."

* * *

Itbecame nighttime in a matter of minutes; Erik carried Christine back to his lair. He went to the dressing room, and walked through the mirror.

He walked down the hallway and down the staircase that led to Caesar.

As he climbed Caesar, Erik ordered him to go in a slow, quiet pace in order to let Christine sleep.

Caesar did as told and walked silently down another hallway to the gondola.

Erik got off and laid Christine on the gondola delicately, smoothing some curls off her peaceful face. He climbed up and began rowing.

He reached the shore, past the portcullis, and took Christine in his arms again.

He carried her off to the swan bed and laid her down, bringing the crimson blankets over her and tucking her safely.

He kneeled beside the bed, watching her.

He caressed her cheek lovingly.

"Don't you ever do that again." he whispered to her, even though he knew she couldn't hear him. "You scared me to death back there."

He brushed some curls off her face.

"I kills me to see you in pain." He whispered, "Please don't scare me like that again."

He stood up and looked down at her affectionately.

"Sleep, _mon ange_." He then leaned over and kissed her cheek, "Thank you for everything you've done for me; you've done so much. Thank you for renewing my hopes and showing me a brand new world."

"But most importantly…" he whispered again, "Thanks for being by my side. I don't know what I would've done without you."

He surveyed her and he kneeled down again.

He couldn't resist.

He leaned over, closed his eyes, and kissed her on the lips tenderly.

(3_)"You're welcome_." He heard a sleepy voice said.

He opened his eyes and found Christine gazing at him with her eyes half closed, smiling, looking tired.

Erik smiled at her and stroked her hair.

"I'll let you rest." He said. He stood up but Christine caught his hand and pulled him back.

"Stay with me…Don't leave me." She said drowsily.

"I..I won't leave you."

Erik sat down at her side on the bed and reclined over the pillows. She lifted herself up slightly and rested her head on his torso. She placed a hand on his chest and closed her eyes, giving a soft sigh.

Erik stroked her hair, and she gradually drifted into sleep.

Erik stayed with her all the night, watching out for her, like a guardian Angel; Her Angel of Music.

He couldn't help but fall asleep too. Christine's warmth against his body relaxed him so much. The soft rhythm of her heart was a lullaby for his ears, and her breathing was soothing words carrying him off to sleep.

He finally gave up to slumber, hugging Christine to him.

* * *

(1) That's the song "No One Would Listen" from the deleted scene in the "Phantom of the Opera" DVD.

Feri- Such an enchanting song! And you sing so beautifully, Erik!

Erik- Bleh- I know. n/n

Feri- I love your modesty ¬¬

Erik- I'm so lovely. n/n

Feri- Erm..Yes you are, but…. Why are you being so show-offy? ¬¬

Erik- Er.. I don't know… ha ha! Dum de dum! -singing- Somewhere over the rainbow! Heh heh… somewhere over the rainbow..theres…there's… there's a goblin with pot full of goooold! Shiney! Heh, heh! Oooooh, shiny, colorful, rainbow-y colors!

Feri- WTH is the matter with you? O.o

Erik- I'VE GOT A LOVELY BUNCH OF COCONUTS! TIRIRIRI!

Feri- o.o -spots Snickers wrappings all over Erik- Oh… now that's why he's acting all…weird… Well, not that he's not weird, but, he's acting weirder now o.o

(2) If you saw the movie "Signs" by M. Night Shyamalan, with Mel Gibson and Joaquin Phoenix, you may recall the scene where Graham's (Mel Gibson) son, Morgan (Rory Culkin), hyperventilates due to a traumatic event; You may recall the scene where Graham tries to calm Morgan down so he can breathe normally (Because he doesn't have his medicine)., and he hugs him to his chest so Morgan feels his heaving chest and follows him to breathe properly. Imagine that same scene but with Erik and Christine.

Erik- You evil girl! You torture my poooooor Christine! -hic-

Feri- Erik…. please lie down before you HURT YOURSELF! ¬¬

Erik- I don't wanna tooooo! x.x -falls to the ground, sleeping-

Feri- ….

(3) If you thought that she was faking to be asleep, you guessed right. Christine had woken up when the gondola reached the shore, but she pretended to be asleep in order to not worry Erik.

So, yeah, she heard everything he said when he laid her on the bed. Ooo, cute!

So, anyways… Thanks for reading! And to reviewer Morgan: Hope you got your questions answered! Thank you for reviewing everybody! Your feedback is the reason why I'm updating this fast!

The more feedback I receive, the faster I'll update n.n

Please leave feedback!

Erik- -sleepily- No one…likes a…debtor…so it's better…if my orders…are….obe…. -trails off- ,

Feri- n.n;

Feri-san


	6. Chapter 6: Introductions

**L'Ange de la Musique**

**Chapter 6**

**"Introductions..."**

* * *

Monday. It was Monday already.

Erik didn't sleep. He stood awake, gazing at the surface of the gleaming, tranquil lake as he sat on his organ's bench, facing the shore. He had his arms crossed, his face fixed in a pensive expression.

Christine was sleeping in his bedroom. It was very late at night, as far as he knew. Moonlight filtered from above and bathed the lake's surface. Erik turned and looked at the grand, aged grandfather clock that rested on the wall; 6:15 am. It was going to be morning soon. The mahogany clock ticked in a rhythm, the pendulum swinging back and forth whilst the hands of the clock moved at each second that elapsed.

Erik sighed and stood up. He placed his hands behind his back and paced around his lair in a meditative way, his dark cape bellowing behind him as he went. He was still dressed in his black suit, with his red handkerchief in slight disarray in the scruff of his shirt. His hair was not completely smoothed back, some bangs fell over his forehead, due to the many times he had run his hand through his hair in deep thought. His pale white mask rested upon the marred, right side of his face, and the white porcelain glistened in a ghostly way.

He gave a deep sigh.

Today he was going to be introduced to the crew; the dancers, performers, actors, stagehands, etc… How would they take it? Would they accept him? He could feel the knot of nervousness in the pit of his stomach tighten up, giving him an unpleasant sensation of dread. What if they didn't accept him? What if they didn't want anything but to see him dead, just as Firmin had wanted to? What if_… What if…._

His mind was full of unanswered questions, giving him a throbbing headache. Voices screamed and shrieked in his mind, making his aching head throb even more. He stopped pacing and closed his eyes. He drove a hand to his temple, trying to ease the pain, but it persisted. The voices in his head became louder; They told him to turn back, to abandon this outrageous idea, but another voice, stronger than the others, whispered above the tumult: '_You promised her… she trusted you… she told you everything would be alright…. Believe in her, believe in her word…. Trust her…'_

"I try… I really do." He muttered to himself. But those voices wouldn't leave him alone; those voices kept trying to turn his mind away from her. But there was always this other lonely voice, which roared above the others, that always turned his head back to her.

This lost voice, for Erik, was the voice of reason, hope, and optimism. This voice had remained quiet, until Christine came. This voice had woken up, screaming and yelling in his mind, full of happiness and yearning. The rest of the voices were the voices of fear, neglect, pessimism, anger, and selfishness. Erik always tried hard to shut these voices down, but they kept pounding in his ears, muttering words of discouragement and of dire nature.

But yet, the other voice came back, the voice of reason; this voice reigned above the others imperiously and brought him back up, filling his ears with soothing words and hopeful prospects.

Erik always listened to this voice. Not only did it mutter words of encouragement, it also talked to him with Christine's voice; It was the distant echo of Christine's voice, reminding him that hope must never be lost, because you'll always find a silver lining in a dark, stormy cloud, that no matter how bad things are, there's always a way out.

He returned his gaze back to the clock: 7:00 am. Morning.

The moonlight that filtered from above melted and gave way to the early rays of sun, the warm hues of sunrise flooding the lair. The sun rose, welcoming a new day, and a new beginning.

Outside, the birds awoke from their slumber, greeting the day with their chirping, creating songs of joy and eagerness. The trees swayed in harmony, following the soft blowing of the early summer wind.

Inside, Erik awaited, with the anxiety flooding him as the minutes elapsed. He could hear movement above, meaning that everyone was waking up too.

Even though he had not had any sleep, Erik didn't feel tired or even sleepy. He had been wide-awake, the uneasiness filling him inside. What if everything went wrong? Damn it. There are those voices again; daunting him. Why couldn't he listen to the lonesome voice for once? Why couldn't he think in … What if everything went all right? What if they did accept him?

_Everything will be fine,_ the lonely voice said, _you'll see. You just trust_.

And this time, Erik did listen to it, this time, he was not thinking in all the terrible things that could happen. This time… he was looking at the silver lining in the dark cloud.

He managed a small smile. After thinking so hard, he was beginning to understand what Christine had said: _There's also compassion, love, and understanding in that world which you dread, Erik, not only loathing and fear. Just look at Meg, look at Mme. Giry… Look at me._

(1)Yes, there was compassion and understanding. A thought within him that had been hiding inside of him since he was a child, erupted. When he was young, he used to think: 'despite of everything, I still believe people are good at heart.' But he had received so much pain and neglect, that this thought had begun to vanish, to hide, and to disappear.

His once hopeful heart had become dry, sad, and lonely. He had lost all faith in human beings. For him, the only person who possessed this understanding and compassion had been young Mme.Giry, who saved him from the gypsies when he was little.

She had been his only friend and companion; She and his music of course. He had known nothing of life except the Opera House in which he dwelled; it had been his playground, and gradually grew to be his artistic domain.

He had become a skillful man; he was an architect and designer, he was a composer and magician; He was a genius, yet, he had remained a hidden and unknown genius, hiding his discoveries and masterpieces from the world, keeping them for himself, for he feared the world would never understand. Never.

And then, came Christine; She was the light in his darkness. She had been the only one to respond to his call and the only one to understand his tears, his torments, and his fears. She had put his deformity aside, accepting him for who he was and not for how he looked like.

She had understood his madness and his obsession with her; she had been scared, but soon understood that he, Erik, would never hurt her, no matter what. She had proven to him that he was not alone despite the fact that the world was crumbling over him. She was certainly one of a kind. And that was why he loved her. She was unique, just like him.

He pondered, listening to the incessant ticking of the old clock. The filtering sunrays tinted his white mask, splashing it with yellows and gold. The usually blue lake now looked like a golden pool. His organ gleamed and shone under the light, and the whole place flooded with warmness.

But the thing that gave off the tenderest warmth, were the thin, delicate arms that now wrapped themselves around his waist, and the slender body that pressed itself against his back. He could feel her heart beating against his upper back, and her soft breath caressing his skin.

"Good Morning…" he heard Christine whisper in his ear. He then felt her lean her head against his back.

"Good morning," Erik muttered back.

He grabbed her hands and gently pushed her forward to stand beside him. He placed his arm over her thin shoulders, hugging her to him. She leaned on his side and hugged his torso. She looked up at him and smiled tenderly.

Erik looked down at her, giving a small smile, his eyes showed deep thought as he gazed down at her.

"What are you thinking?" she asked softly, still looking at him.

"I'm thinking about you." he responded simply, never taking his eyes off her.

"About me?" she inquired, "And what are you thinking about me?"

"Many things…" he sighed, rubbing her shoulder lightly.

"And in your thoughts did you include the possibility of me kissing you?" she asked, a mischievous grin playing across her face.

Erik's eyes widened. "Kissing me?" he inquired.

"Yes…" she whispered. She leaned forward, closing her eyes yearningly, while placing her hand on his cheek.

For a moment, Erik thought about becoming lost in her kiss, about locking his lips with hers. He leaned forward as well, closing his eyes, but just then, an obnoxious click stopped him. His eyes snapped open and he pulled away before his lips came in contact with hers; He took some steps backwards, turning his head away.

"Erik?" Christine asked, as she opened her eyes and stared at him worriedly. "What's wrong?"

"I…I…" he stammered, looking around him nervously. "Christine, ….I can't kiss you."

She frowned in confusion, "Why not?"

"I c-can't tell you."

"You can't tell me?" she asked. She then looked down. "Am I a bad kisser?" she pouted, rather playfully.

"What? No!" Erik said, with a slight tone of alarm in his voice. He approached her slowly and raised her chin with his hand. "No… It's not…. that…" his voice trailed off as he gazed at her eyes. "You're an excellent…kisser…"

He touched her lips softly with his index finger, caressing them lovingly. NO, he had to resist. He could not give in. He couldn't kiss her. He couldn't! He resisted the urge to kiss her with every ounce of will he possessed.

She looked at him curiously. She kissed his finger softly and took his hand in hers.

"Then what is it?" she insisted.

"It's… I…" he stuttered, "You'll loathe me for saying this…but… I can't kiss a married woman."

He took his hand out of her hold and took some steps backwards again. He looked at her, waiting for her reaction with a disappointed expression plastered on his face.

Christine sighed exasperatedly and turned her head away, rolling her eyes intolerantly. She placed her hands on her hips and turned her head back to him.

"Erik, we have been through this… I'm not engaged to him anymore!" she said angrily, "Besides… I'm not married. What Raoul and I had was just an engagement! We were about to marry but, due to the circumstances, it has been cancelled!"

"What?" Erik inquired; a surprised expression invaded his face. "Engagement?"

"Yes, Erik! Engaged!" she said, staring at him impatiently, "There's a difference between engaged and married! And thank God I was in the engagement side."

Erik just stared at her incredulously, not believing that he had been so oblivious all this time. Of course, she had clearly said _'…As far as I'm concerned… I'm not engaged to him anymore…'_ some days earlier. Engaged. That meant…

(2)"The purpose of a ring in an engagement is to swear loyalty and love to each other." She explained, "Engagement is also a process in which you find out if the man that loves you is suitable for you. The ring also symbolizes a promise, a vow made between the fiancées, in which you swear undying love until marriage is done, in which, that love becomes eternal. If the ring is taken off on either side, the vow is broken; therefore there is no relationship anymore."

Christine walked to Erik and stood before him. She reached out and caressed his face gently.

"I took the ring off," she whispered, managing a small smile. She showed him the finger that once wore Raoul's ring. "The vow is broken…. I'm free."

Erik gazed at the finger. He then took her wrist and brought her hand to his lips, kissing her bare finger lovingly.

He brought both her arms around his neck and wrapped his arms around her middle. She smiled and looked seductively at him. Erik smiled too and he leaned forward.

"Then… Am I free to do this?" He said, his eyes half closed as he gazed at her. He then leaned forward and kissed her squarely on the lips. Christine was taken aback at first, but then complied, responding to the kiss vehemently.

Erik then picked her up by the waist, with their mouths still interlocked, and swung her around in circles, her dress flying behind her.

(3)He placed her back on the floor. They broke the kiss and looked at each other. Christine giggled happily. She cupped his face in her hands and gave him a quick kiss. Then, they both inclined their heads and brought their foreheads together.

They stared amorously at each other. He ran his hands through her curly hair, hugging her closer to him. She kissed the tip of his nose playfully. He chuckled.

Suddenly, they both heard excited movement above; they snapped out of their reverie, remembering that today was Erik's introduction.

"Dear, I almost forgot" Christine muttered quietly. "You always distract me!" she added playfully.

"Me?" Erik replied, mocking a face of outrage.

"Yes, you!" Christine said, grinning.

"I feel so ashamed!" he said sarcastically. He then nuzzled his nose against hers, giving her little skimo kisses. Christine giggled.

"Stop it!" she said between giggles, "We're going to be late!" She placed a hand in his face, stopping him, and pushed him slightly away. He smiled behind her hand, and kissed it.

He took her hand, moved it away, and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek before she could stop him.

She mocked a face of surprise, "You naughty!" He smiled sheepishly and then faked a face of innocence.

"Who? Me?" he asked naively.

She chuckled and approached him.

"We're really going to be late if we don't hurry." She said as she tried to rearrange his handkerchief; She tucked the blood-red hankie nicely in the scruff. She then smoothed his hair back, combing it properly with her hand.

All the time, he gazed at her, admiring her. She was his beauty, his angel. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her; He owed her so much.

She brushed his suit, smoothing away the wrinkles. He then reached out and grabbed her wrists gently.

"You should get ready too," Erik said, "Don't worry about me."

She smiled at him and gave him a single, fleet kiss in the cheek before she scurried to Erik's room.

His eyes trailed off behind her as she disappeared through the door.

She was free. She was…completely free. He sighed with contentment. Something inside him exploded with happiness. He smiled. Then, his smile faltered as something came to his mind. His eyes gradually traveled to the desk where he worked, to the desk in which he kept all the drawings he made. He walked slowly towards the desk; He reached it and glanced at the various objects that were above it. He looked at all the drawings; His compositions; they were all there. He looked through the pile of papers, his quills, the used bottles of ink. But one object in particular, caught his eye almost immediately. It was a box, a little wooden, jeweled box with golden embroideries. It was small, much smaller than the monkey box at least. It stood lonely in the corner of the desk, all covered in dust.

Erik gazed at it for a moment before taking it carefully in his hands. He looked intently at it, tracing the embroidery with his finger, feeling the cold, smooth surface of the tiny jewels. He blew away the dust, shaking away all the dirt with his hand. He took a white handkerchief that was in the desk, and cleaned the box, getting it rid off all the dust.

He threw the now dirty handkerchief on the desk, and gazed once more at the box. It was a beautiful mahogany box, its fine wood glistening under the soft candlelight. The golden embroidery and the jewels shone beautifully upon the lid.

Below the lid, however, laid a little keyhole. He separated his gaze from the box and looked around him. He spotted one of the huge, broken wall mirrors and approached it, still holding the box in his hands. With one hand, he reached out behind the mirror, looking for something, searching with his fingers. He then felt a cold, thin, small object and grabbed it. He took it out and looked down at the little object in his hand.

It was a little golden key, plastered with tiny glyphs. The most prominent glyph was that with the shape of a little rose, its stem running along the edge, from the head of the key, to its point. The bulb served as the head of the key, while two leaves outstretched from the "stem" to form the key's curvature that fitted the lock.

He slowly introduced the key in the keyhole and turned it slowly. Click. The lock clicked open and Erik lifted the lid. He walked to his desk again and sat on a chair beside it.

He fixed his eyes on the single, minute object that was hidden within the box. He took it out.

It was a gleaming, diamond ring. It had a big diamond in the center, while the many tiny diamonds that ran along the rest of the ring glittered under the light. The ring had not lost its polish; it was as elegant as ever. It was the very diamond ring he had given Christine 3 years ago, in his lair. But Christine had returned it to him just before she left with Raoul, and Erik had kept it safe in this little box. It was a precious treasure for him, for it reminded him of Christine, and of the dream he had dreamt of 3 years ago, but that never became true.

Erik could feel his eyes burn with unshed tears as the memories came flowing back to his mind.

_Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you, you're not alone…_

Christine… Oh, Christine… He forced back tears as he gazed one last time at the ring and slowly lowered it to the box again. Suddenly, he heard a door creaking open. He quickly snapped the lid shut and placed the box on the desk. He stood up hastily and brushed some dust off his suit. He straightened up and faced the direction of his room.

Christine came out, looking beautifully gorgeous. She wore one of the dresses he had bought for her. It was a light-sepia colored dress. It had tones of sepias and browns all around. The corset was darker sepia, while the rest of the dress was of a lighter hue. Behind, a decorative bow was prominent; she wore a butterfly-shaped hairpin made entirely of little emeralds in her half ponytail. The curls of hair in the ponytail fell elegantly, while the rest of the hair, fell on her shoulders heavily. Her shoulders were bare, except for two extravagant laces that ran around her lower shoulders, supporting her corset. She also wore a beautiful, silver necklace with a little emerald butterfly hanging from the chain.

Christine smiled, but her smile faltered when she noticed Erik's rather vacant stare.

"Erik?" she said, "Everything fine?"

Erik snapped back to reality, "Y-yes…" he said, faking a smile, "We should get going…"

Christine smiled and approached him. He offered her his arm and she took it more than willingly. He guided her to the gondola and helped her in. He clambered in himself and took the oar. He began rowing, sinking the oar deep into the water, impelling the little boat forward.

They passed the Portcullis and reached the shore in no time. Erik leaped out and helped Christine. They encountered Erik's black steed. Caesar neighed happily, yet, with a nervous tone in his neigh. Christine stared at Caesar for a few seconds, watching his eyes intently as Erik prepared the saddle. Caesar moved uncomfortably, giving little snorts.

"Are you nervous?" Christine asked Erik out of the blue.

"What?" Erik said, as he finished tightening up the saddle.

"I asked you if you're nervous…"

"I…yes… How did you know?" Erik asked, for he had tried really hard to assume a calm expression.

"Your horse is nervous as well." She stated, "Did you know animals can feel what their master feels? It's a connection. A very strong bond."

"Oh…Yes... I'm a bit…nervous." He finished.

"I knew you were… I could feel it too." She said, as she approached him and took his arm. "It seems we have developed a bond as well."

"You… think?" he asked, bewildered.

"Yes." She said, as she rested her head against his shoulder. "It's strange. I could almost tell that I feel what you do. Just a moment ago, back on the lair, I felt sadness for no apparent reason, and when I came out, I found you with a saddened expression."

Erik looked down at her; she was still clutching his arm, and she stared vacantly into the void.

"And just here, I felt your nervousness more than ever, and your horse did too. Caesar was only confirming my suspicions, I had seen you with such a confident look on your face, earlier, but yet I felt you so different."

This time, she looked up at him and stared deep into his eyes. He looked at her again.

"How…" he said, "How can you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Be so empathic?"

"I don't know… I just…am." She said, "And it's just easier to understand others if we see things through their eyes… Don't you think?"

"It's just…so easy for you." He said, "I can't even understand myself, I have never seen through others eyes…I'm so…confused."

(4)"It's normal, " she said reasonably, "To feel confused for one's feelings. That's why empathy is such a difficult trait to acquire. First you've got to understand yourself to be able to understand others and see the world from their point of view. And understanding oneself is not an easy task; there's so many things to think about, so many ideas to ponder on, so many questions to ask oneself, so many feelings and sensations to understand."

"Yes… I suppose so." He sighed, thinking deeply in all that Christine was saying.

"Don't worry," she said, smiling slightly, " In time, you'll understand… Trust me."

She gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. She made her way to Caesar and Erik helped her up, all the time thinking about all she had said just now. She was so right.

Erik climbed Caesar and settled himself behind Christine; He took the reins and urged Caesar to begin his way up.

Caesar neighed, reared slightly, and galloped away. They reached the landing and Erik helped Christine off Caesar. They made their way up the spiral staircase, through the candelabra hall, and through the mirror.

There, they found Mme. Giry waiting for them. She looked with reprimand at them, scoffing as she faced them.

"What took you so long?" Mme. Giry asked, "Come on! The managers are getting impatient! They have assembled all the opera in the Entrance Hall!"

She exited the room in a hurry. Erik and Christine turned to look at each other. Christine smiled tenderly and took his hand.

"It is time." She said.

He nodded and then they followed Mme. Giry. They walked through the various halls, anxiety building up in their insides. As they advanced, they could hear excited chattering and murmurs. The noise became stronger as they finally descended a set of stairs, finding themselves in the uppermost landing of the Entrance Hall.

The crowd muttered excitedly between themselves, not really paying attention to the new incomers.

André and Firmin stood over the handrail, looking down at the employees, when André turned around and saw them. He smiled and opened his arms wide, greeting the three of them.

He advanced at them, giving a hearty laugh. Firmin remained with his back at them, still looking down the banister of the landing.

"Welcome, welcome!" André greeted them, "We thought you wouldn't come!"

André shook Erik's hand eagerly; he then kissed Christine's hand mannerly.

"Mademoiselle." He said.

He then encountered Mme.Giry.

"Ah, Madame!" he said, "Thank you!"

Mme. Giry gave a tiny bow with her head, in an assenting way.

"Well, everyone is here!" André said, "Without further ado, let the introduction begin!"

Erik nodded nervously, and Christine squeezed his hand encouragingly.

"You wait here, I'll make the rightful presentations!" he said. Erik and Christine remained in the back, away from the crew's view range.

André turned once more and strolled to the handrail. He looked down at the employees whose attention was still in another thing that were not the managers.

André cleared his throat loudly, gaining everyone's attention. The hall fell silent in the instant as they looked up at the managers. Dancers, actors, stagehands, workers, and performers abandoned their heated chats to look curiously at the managers.

André opened his arms wide, just as he had done with Erik, and addressed them all.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" he bellowed strongly, with a smile plastered in his face, "I have the honor to introduce two new members of our crew!"

At this, the crew muttered between themselves. Christine and Erik stared. Two? Wasn't Erik the only one that had applied for a job? Erik looked around. There was no one to be seen. How curious.

"They're able workers, and have acceded to become part of our family!" André said, "I rest assured that you will welcome them as it's due."

André half turned around and motioned Erik and Christine to step forward. They blinked for a second, before they realized they were being called. They stepped forward and positioned themselves beside André.

The crew recognized them immediately and, to Erik's misfortune, all recognized him instantly, thanks to his half, white mask.

The crew gasped and stifled screams as they gazed up at Erik. The ballet girls and other female bodies clapped their hands to their mouths in utter fear, some of them, hiding behind the stagehands and other robust workers. The male parts of the crew glared at him, sending a shiver running down Erik's spine as a thousand eyes were laid upon him.

Between the tumult, different angry acclamations were heard, 'the Phantom of the Opera!', 'It's the Opera Ghost!', 'Wasn't he dead?', and so on. Erik just wanted to disappear from the face of earth right there, on that spot.

"L-Ladies! Gentlemen!" André called, trying to calm the enraged party, "Please! Let me explain first!"

The uproar decreased a bit, but there were still enraged murmurs and deadly glares.

"This gentleman here, has agreed to work with us-"

"And why would we accept that bloody murderer?" someone screamed from the group.

There was avowal among the crew and heated whispers could be heard. Erik could feel his heart sinking lower and lower in his ribcage.

"Monsieur! Please!" André said, "Just give him a chance! How can someone change if he's not given an opportunity to do so!"

"And what makes you believe he has changed?" the same angry, bulky man exclaimed.

"Believe me monsieur!" André said defiantly, "I know…"

The bulky man remained silent, just as the entire group.

"As I was saying…" André resumed, "This man will be working for us. I introduce you, Monsieur Erik!"

"So that monster has a name?" A flirty ballet dancer said annoyingly.

Christine felt the rage build inside her; She just wanted to go to that woman and slap her across the face. Erik meanwhile, gulped and dropped his gaze pitifully. Christine rubbed his arm comfortingly.

"Disrespectful comments will NOT be tolerated, mademoiselle!" André bellowed. "Monsieur Erik and Mademoiselle Daaé will be working for us now."

Christine froze. She was going to work for them too? She was the second addition to the crew? Oh dear…

Faint murmurs arose as Christine's second name was mentioned. The murmurs, though, were not those of anger and fear, but gentle murmurs. They had all met Christine, and had grown quite fond of her. They were just surprised to see her again in the Opera House after 3 years of absence.

"They are now part of our crew." André stated, "Erik will kindly assume the post of Voice Teacher, while Miss Daaé will assume the post of Ballet Assistant!"

Christine instantly whirled around to look at Mme.Giry. She returned her stare with a little smile playing on her lips. She winked an eye at Christine. Christine smiled back and returned her gaze to the crew below her.

"I now ask for a round of applause for our new colleagues!" André shouted.

Clapping reverberated across the hall as millions hands were brought together in a round of applause. Erik could feel his heart lighten up, for some members of the crew were actually smiling at him!

"I must warn you though!" André shouted over the cheering, "Nothing about Erik's or Christine's whereabouts is to be known outside the Opera! Their lives in the Opera House from now on shall be kept a secret… for personal reasons…" André glanced at Christine, who quickly turned away.

"If you spill anything outside the Opera, you'll be instantly… _fired_." André warned. "SO nothing about Erik or Christine must be told to anyone outside the opera… Understood?"

The crew nodded silently, making a solemn agreement between everyone.

"Thank you, everyone!" André said, "You can now go to do your usual activities!"

The group scattered around, going to their usual actions, leaving the managers, Erik, Christine, and Mme. Giry alone.

André turned around and smiled broadly.

"Well, it seems everything has been settled!" André said, and he turned to Erik and Christine, "Your schedules and activities will be given in a short period of time! For now, I must retire to sign some papers and such! Mme. Giry will show you your working place."

He bowed his head rapidly and strolled up the staircase toward the office.

Firmin, who had remained quiet through the whole ordeal, turned to Erik.

"Good Job, monsieur…" Firmin said, "I wish you the best in your new job…. and your new future."

Firmin was being nice with Erik? Okay, this time, the world is really coming to an end.

Firmin stretched out his hand and shook it with Erik's.

"No hard feelings?" Firmin muttered. Erik shook his head and managed a small smile while shaking Firmin's hand Firmin nodded and walked away.

Erik felt relief sweep upon his body. This couldn't get any better! Just then, Christine lunged at him, embracing him warmly. Erik couldn't keep his contentment anymore and took Christine by the waist, swinging her in the air in circles. Christine giggled as Erik smiled up at her. Erik placed her back down and embraced her.

"You were right," he whispered in her ear, "always right…"

He tightened his embrace on her, closing his eyes. Christine smiled and did the same.

"Well, I suppose I should show you your working areas…" Mme. Giry interrupted, "If you will follow me."

She descended from one of the staircases, Erik and Christine following closely. They entwined their fingers and, without Mme. Giry noticing, they kissed lovingly, following her pace in utter happiness.

---

Angel chorus- HALLELUYA! HALLEUYA!

Feri- finally done with Chapter 6! Squeeeee!

Erik- -pokes Feri- I poke you! n/n

Feri- Please! Stop giving Snickers to Erik!

Erik- NUUUU! DON'T LISTEN TO HER!

Feri- It's for your own good! 

Erik- It's not… -eye twitches freakishly-

Feri- -Backs away- Erm…right… You're crazy!

Erik- Me? Crazy? NAAAAAH! Whatever gave you that idea! -eye twitches again as he smiles wickedly-

Feri- Eh… I should go now…before Erik does something I would surely regret!

Erik- POKE ATTACK! n.n

Feri- AAAAAH! -runs away-

(1) Got the phrase from "The Diary of Anne Frank"- "Despite of everything, I still believe people are really good at heart."- Anne. I read the play recently and saw it fitting.

(2) That is what it means to me at least, an engagement ring and that stuff.

(3) I have such a cute mental picture in there! -Dreamy eyes-

(4)I took a personality test and my most prominent trait was "empathy". What Christine describes there is what I actually think o.o, so yeah, that's my opinion about empathy, said through Christine XD.

Myuuu!

Feedback please! Thank you for stopping by and reading! -hugs all-

Feri-san


	7. Chapter 7: Starting Anew

"L'Ange de la Musique"

Chapter 7

"Starting Anew"

* * *

"Follow me please!" Mme. Giry repeated as she strolled rapidly through a hallway. Erik and Christine followed Mme. Giry closely, wondering where would she take them.

They went through the long hallway, glancing at the doors that stood sideways across the hall. After some minutes, Mme. Giry approached a dusty-looking door at the far end, and examined it.

She lifted her hand and brushed away some dust to reveal a golden worn-out plaque. In it, it featured the words 'OFFICE'. It looked pretty old and battered. She brushed some more dust underneath the plaque and revealed yet another one, but this one was smaller and it featured the words "Monsieur Toulouse Tussette".

Christine and Erik gawked curiously at the name in the little plaque. Who was this man? Why was the door so dusty and worn-out? Mme. Giry noticed their stare and rounded on them.

"Don't mind the name." She said, "This man left long ago. Just before you came, Christine."

Christine looked slightly surprised, unlike Erik, who wore a tired expression.

"He was the Voice Teacher back then."

"Really?" Christine said curiously, " I didn't know there were Voice Teachers before. Why did he left?"

Erik gave a little sigh and rolled his eyes slightly.

"Well…" Mme.Giry mumbled, "His voice wasn't very good…and you, more than anyone Erik, must know."

Erik nodded and gave another desperate sigh as a memory drifted back to his mind.

"Lets just say that I had a sudden urge to kill something whenever I heard his voice." Erik said, "I always tried to get him sick to prevent him from singing. I was very young, so I was incapable of committing a real murder", Christine stared at him incredulously at his lack of subtleness with such a thing, but Erik was oblivious to this and continued his explication, "so I limited myself to pouring freezing cold water over him in winter time whenever he exited the opera, trying to make him catch a cold."

Erik smirked mischievously. Christine frowned at him accusingly and Erik shrugged, faking innocence.

"Yes, but you never succeeded." Mme. Giry chuckled. Erik's smirk disappeared.

"Thank you for reminding me of my frequent failures at my attempts…" Erik declared sarcastically, glaring at Mme.Giry.

"He never got sick, no matter how many times Erik poured freezing water over him, stole his winter clothes, or left open the window at night. Monsieur Tussette never got ill." Mme. Giry said, "He was quite resistant."

"Yes, but," Christine started, a confused tone in her voice, " What does Erik's childish behavior have to do with Monsieur Tussette's retirement?"

"Childish?" Erik retorted indignantly, but Christine ignored him.

"Nothing really." Mme. Giry admitted, in deep thought while Erik crossed his arms, "Anyway. He was a terrible teacher. He was a very grumpy man. His face was always in a deep frown. He was very narcissist and only thought of himself. He thought he possessed a talent "the gods had given him", although people thought otherwise; they thought the "gods" had cursed him."

"Let's leave it simple," Erik interrupted, "something like Carlotta, only that it was in a male version."

"I…see…" Christine said, giggling at Erik's comment. Erik grinned and Mme. Giry chuckled again.

"So, he got fired." Mme. Giry said, "And other people came, trying to acquire the post. No one succeeded, for _a toad always got stuck in their throat _whenever they tried to apply…" Here, Mme. Giry glanced at Erik, who looked away in an innocent way.

"Since no one knew Erik, they thought the post was haunted by Monsieur Tussette's ghost. You know how the crew is always superstitious about these things."

"It's a complete nonsense, in my opinion." Erik said. "Ghosts… who would ever believe in ghosts or ghouls? There are not such things as spirits and lost souls, or anything of the sort."

"Look who's talking, Mr. Opera Ghost." Christine teased, smirking at him.

"I…er…" Erik tried to defend himself, "that was a total different case." He said, trying to look calm and formal, but Christine caught a slight blush on his cheek from the embarrassment of being corrected by someone about something he said.

"I don't think any Voice Teacher lasted long. Either by Erik's interference or not, something always drove them away." Mme. Giry said, "Voice teachers always ran the worst of lucks. Some of them even died some days later if they DID acquire the post. Unfortunate calamities always fell upon them. That is why the post has been vacant ever since. Suffering and disaster awaited those who tried to apply."

"Why, thank you for the encouraging words…" Erik said sarcastically. "Your support outstands me."

Mme. Giry smiled "You'll need all the support you can get, Erik. You need to impress them."

Erik sighed and frowned slightly, dropping his gaze, "I know."

Mme. Giry smiled again and placed a hand on his cheek.

"Everything is going to be fine, they just have to get used to you."

"It's just…" Erik started, "I don't like to pretend to be someone I'm not."

"You're not pretending to be someone you're not, Erik." Mme. Giry said, "You're just changing, that's all. Everyone goes through that. There are some habits we must change to satisfy others."

"I don't want to satisfy others." Erik said, " I just want to be what I used to be. Just…be… Erik!"

"Erik, there's something you must understand." Mme. Giry said, and she whispered in his ear, "Sometimes we must sacrifice ourselves to get what we want." At this, she glanced at Christine, who found the wall very interesting at that moment, "I know change is difficult, but we have to learn to live with it. Most of the time, change is only for good. There are some habits that have to be left off for the benefit of everyone."

"And to sacrifice one's liberty of expression is part of benefiting others?" Erik challenged. " I won't lose my freedom just for the pleasure of someone else."

Mme. Giry sighed, "Erik, you have lived too long in the shadows to actually know what the real world is about. Changes must be made! Sacrifices must be carried out! "

But that statement really got into Erik deeply.

"Lived too long in the shadows to actually know what the real world is about?" Erik said, almost screaming, "I think I'm quite aware of what the real world is about! Ever since I was a child, I've been neglected! Just for this…this… face! People just didn't care of how I felt! Why must it be I who has to change? Why can't they find compassion in their hearts and change their cruel ways to act toward me? Why can't they see past the face and see what is inside! Everyone expect _me_ to change! I've done my best, but people don't really appreciate it! It's not my fault that they're blinded by the typical stereotype of society! It's no my fault that they made me what I am now! It's not my fault that I was born with this HIDEOUS FACE!"

And on the emphasis, we snatched away his mask to reveal the disfigured side of his face. The mask fell dully on the floor and Erik reclined on the wall for support.

"It's not my fault… It's not my fault…" Erik said quietly, dropping his head and closing his eyes. He reached out with a hand and covered his face to hide his deformity. "It was _the real world_, the one that sent me to the shadows…"

"I know quite well what the real world is about…" Erik whispered, "I just had he misfortune of stumbling across the bad side of it."

Mme.Giry was bedazzled and stood on the spot, unable to articulate a word. Christine, who had watched Erik's outburst with surprise and had remained quiet for the whole moment, stared compassionately at Erik. She approached him slowly and lifted his chin, so he was looking into her eyes. He had tears forming in the corners of his eyes, but they refused to fall.

She smiled tenderly at him. Somehow, she felt that nothing she said would express how she felt for him at that precise moment. She felt a mixture of compassion, sadness, understanding, sympathy, and a slight hint of pity, and she couldn't quite put those feeling into words.

She kneeled and took the mask. She straightened up and gazed again at Erik. She stared deep into his eyes and had an abrupt urge to cry, but restrained herself. He expressed such loneliness and sadness. It was unbearable. She reached out and lowered his hand from his face. She uncovered his face and, yet again, she felt no repulsion at the sight of his disfigurement.

She placed the mask back on his face hesitantly, slowly fitting it correctly on his face. All through that, Erik remained motionless, watching every move she made with curiosity.

"Thank you…" Erik said idly.

Christine smiled yet again, completely lost for words. What could she possibly say? And even through the silence, she felt that Erik knew what she was feeling. He had a knack for that. It was almost as if he could read her mind, but at the same time, he couldn't quite put together the puzzle of her thoughts. But then again, he seemed to understand her feelings perfectly, despite the ever changing swirl of thoughts that encircled her mind.

Realizing that she couldn't possibly do anything that might be of help, the only thing she did was to hug him. She locked him in a warm embrace. Erik took a few seconds to realize that Christine was hugging him, and wrapped his arms around her in response.

Suddenly, Christine felt an outburst of mixed feeling inside of her; Loneliness, sadness, anxiety, nervousness, hopelessness, unhappiness, pity, misery, pain. She was feeling what he was feeling. Had they become so close together to be able to feel each other's emotions? It seemed they did. The urge of crying intensified, but she tried hard to fight back the tears. How could he bear all this? It was… intolerable! But then, there was this façade that Erik always built around him and hid his feelings, making him seem calm and untroubled. But now, she could feel everything, absolutely everything, every single emotion, every single feeling. After all, it was only a façade, a fake cover. It only hid the overwhelming pain Erik felt inside.

She tightened her embrace on him. He wanted to hold him there, to try to ease his pain and his sadness. And somewhere deep inside, she knew that part of his pain was caused by her.

"I'm…"she whispered to Erik, "I'm sorry…"

Erik looked down at her. He surveyed her quietly and stroked her hair delicately, pulling her head closer to his chest. Christine could feel the pumping of his heart against her cheek and a wave of warmness shrouded her.

"It's not your fault," he whispered back to her, the soft whisper brushing past his lips and caressing Christine's cheek. He reclined his head on hers and held her tight against him. He didn't want to let go of her. Every time she embraced him, he felt warm and secure, but most importantly, …loved.

Mme. Giry watched them, a little bit of guilt building up in the pit of her stomach. She had been the one to know everything about Erik, the closest friend he had ever had. She had known all his secrets and ambitions. And now… she felt like a complete foreigner to him.

She shook her head and turned around. She took a silver key from her key ring, which held like 30 more different keys, ranging from golden to copper ones. They clicked as they hit each other in the circular ring. She introduced the silver key in the door's keyhole and she turned it. The look clicked open and she opened the door, which creaked in its hinges due to the lack use.

Erik and Christine snapped back to reality and broke apart. They turned to look at each other and, to Christine's surprise, Erik gave a small, warm smile to her. Christine returned the gesture with a little nervous smile.

"Come, I'll show you your working area." Mme. Giry said unemotionally, motioning them with a hand to go forward. Erik and Christine did as told and went inside. Mme. Giry followed them and closed the door behind her.

Inside, Erik and Christine surveyed the room with curiosity. It was very spacious. In the center of the room, laid a huge desk with a matching chair. There were scattered papers all around the desk, and just like all the room, the desk was also heavily covered in dust. Tons of papers were scattered about around the floor. Beyond the desk, a large window was noticeable. Just beyond the window, the streets of Paris were visible, despite the opacity of the dust-filled glass. Mauve curtains hung ghostly at either side of the window, their moth-eaten ends stained with dirt.

On the left wall stood a big, bulky, used-up couch. Beside the couch laid a little three-legged table with a broken white porcelain vase on it. The table and the desk looked like they could do with a little polishing and a bit of repairing, for one of the table's legs was half-bitten by termites.

On the right wall hung a big painting of an angel. The angel was kneeled on the floor, its hands brought together in prayer. Its white wings glistened beautifully against the light that shone above the angel from the heavens in the painting. A glowing halo was encircling its head, making its blonde hair shine like silk, and it had a pleading look in its pale blue eyes. An angel.

_How fitting… _Erik thought as he gazed at the painting.

The painting was also submerged under a layer of dust, but nothing a little cleaning couldn't do.

Two gas lamps hung from each wall; one on either side of the window, the door, and the painting, and the other two above the couch.

Overall, the office looked really old, messy, and dusty. It was clear that it needed a good cleaning and maintenance.

"Forgive me for the mistreated state of the room. It hasn't been used for years." Mme. Giry informed them, surveying the room carefully. "The maids just simply stopped cleaning it."

"Oh, don't worry." Christine started, "Erik and I'll clean it up." She smiled. Erik nodded in agreement.

Mme. Giry nodded back. "Well, there's no business for me here. I'll leave it to you. You're free to do whatever changes you feel necessary to this office."

"Thank you, Madame." Erik said, bowing his head in gratitude.

"You're welcome… I'll leave you to it, then." She then turned on her heels and left the room, leaving Erik and Christine alone. Christine then gave a deep sigh and approached the little table. She pressed her index finger on the surface and slid her finger over it. She withdrew her hand and brought her finger in front of her. A big, dusty stain was visible in her fingertip.

"Seems we have a lot of work to do." Christine said matter-of-factly.

"Yes. I can see that." Erik said. He looked around. "Where to start?"

"We could start by making the place less dusty." Christine said, "Then we can arrange everything else."

Erik nodded. "We should get some cleaning material to start work."

"I'll go for them, I know where they are. You wait here. I'll be back shortly." Christine said. She darted out of the room, leaving Erik completely alone in the forsaken office. With the looming silence falling on him, he decided to find something to do meanwhile.

He started to pick up the papers that lay scattered around the desk. As he took in his hands notes, schedules, essays, and pieces of junk, he stumbled across a very dirty piece of paper. He picked it up and blew the dust away. Under the dirt, a photograph was revealed. It depicted a little boy with a woman beside him.

The little boy was a scrawny looking fellow. Because the photograph was in black and white, Erik couldn't quite deduce the real colors of the boy's eyes and hair, but the only thing he could deduce, was that he had light-colored eyes. The little boy wore a pleasant smile, his eyes, though they didn't show any color, irradiated warmth and brightness. The woman beside him smiled gingerly too, one of her arms around the boy's little shoulders. Her long, dark hair glistened as it fell elegantly down her shoulders. The warm look the woman gave off from her eyes gave Erik a sudden sense of yearning nostalgia. He missed something. This picture reminded him of something that made him feel lost and a bit confused and left him with a feeling of longing.

Erik threw the rest of the garbage he was holding into a little trashcan; everything except the photograph. He held the photograph carefully and absent-mindedly he sat down on the worn-out couch. The couch gave off a little cloud of dust that subsided rapidly, but Erik took no notice of this. Suddenly, the door creaked open and Christine came in, holding some buckets, cleaning rags, feather dusters, a broom and a mop under her heavily occupied arms.

"I found this down in a cupboard, " Christine said as she placed everything down. "Maybe we should start by dusting the-" but she fell silent. She had straightened herself to look at Erik, but had found him staring vacantly at a piece of paper in his hands.

"Erik?" Christine inquired, "Everything all right?" But Erik did not answer. He made a head movement as if to look at her, but didn't. He opened his mouth, but closed it almost immediately when words failed to leave his lips.

Christine approached him, slightly worried at his hesitant attitude, and sat beside him on the couch. Another cloud of dust aroused but declined almost as quick as it had risen. She looked at him puzzled, but Erik didn't return the gawk. His eyes, Christine noticed, showed deep loss and confusion, like if suddenly Erik had lost the notion of where he was, who he was, and what was he supposed to do.

She followed the direction of his gaze and stared at the old photograph in his hands. She saw the boy and the woman, but saw no importance in them whatsoever. She looked back at Erik with curiosity, wondering what could be running through his mind at that same moment. What could possibly have detached him from reality? She placed a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't seem to respond to her shaky touch. He stared as emptily as he had done before at the image before him.

In his mind, millions of questions drifted through the wind of thoughts that blew rapidly in his brain. This woman in the picture reminded him a whole lot of somebody he once knew. But who? He didn't know whom this woman reminded him of, he just knew that it brought sad feelings back to him and that it also brought a painful headache to his head. Finally, something clicked in his mind… that woman reminded him of his own…his own….

"Erik?.. ERIK!" Christine's scream brought him painfully back to earth, snapping him off his pensiveness. He looked distractedly around, recognizing his surroundings and assimilating the situation. He turned his head to a side and saw Christine staring worriedly at him. He tilted his head a bit in confusion as he gazed into her quizzical eyes.

"Erik? Are you all right?" Christine inquired, touching his temple to sense if he had trail of an upcoming fever, for he had become a tad bit pale.

"What?" He said, rather confused at her question.

"You were so gone right now…" she said, "Like if the world around you didn't exist!"

"What-what do you mean?" he asked again.

"You didn't respond to anything I told you… Nor moved whenever I touched you." she said, lowering her hand, "Like if you were living in a oblivion state, like if you were in a kind of trance. You just stared vacantly into this picture, totally unaware of the world. You didn't respond to my queries until now."

"Oh…" he replied simply, finally understanding everything, taking in all the information. "Forgive me…" he looked back at the picture. He then crumpled the photograph into a little ball and threw it to the trashcan. He placed a hand on his temple and closed his eyes, heaving a soft sigh as he tried to ease his headache.

"What troubles you?" Christine asked, rubbing his back comfortingly.

"Nothing…" he replied, but Christine knew it wasn't true.

"I know something is occupying your mind…" she said, "I know because you always adopt that pose whenever you're thinking in something really deeply…"

Erik sighed and straightened up. "It's nothing," he said, not daring to look at her. "Honest… Don't worry…"

"Erik… who were the people in the photograph?" she asked stubbornly.

Finally, Erik gave in to her obstinacy. "No one I really knew. I assume it was Tussette when he was younger. The boy looked an awful lot like him."

"And why does that trouble you so?" she persisted.

"It was not the photo itself, or the people in it. They just… reminded me…of… someone…" Erik said reluctantly.

"Who?"

He sighed and his lip quivered a little. "My mother…" he said that with every ounce of power he possessed, for the only mention of that word made him feel totally weak and helpless. He dug his elbows into his knees and hid his face on his hands.

"Oh, Erik…" she said sympathetically, rubbing his back in an attempt to comfort him. She had never heard Erik talk about his mother before, or his father, or any family he could've had. "I'm sorry… Is she…"

"No…As far as I know, I think she's still alive." Erik said, lifting his face from his hands and staring into the ground. "But I never saw her again… since… I…" he trailed off.

"Do you want to talk about this?" she said, "You don't have to if you don't feel like it."

"No... Its just…I've never told this to anyone… Not even Mme. Giry." Erik said nervously, "I never talked about her with anyone. I didn't even think of her since… now."

"And do you want to talk about it?" she asked, trying not to push him.

"I guess it's time for me to tell someone… I have to get this off my chest. It's to much for me to bear now that I was reminded of that night."

"What night?"

"The night when I escaped the household of my mother." Erik said ashamedly, "I was 9 when I left. I was so enraged by my mother's neglect on me. But… somehow, I felt that she was beginning to be more sympathetic and caring of me, but I left nonetheless."

"I had lived in the house for 9 long years, not being able of going out in public, always locked up in that darned house. A mask was the first cloth I ever wore. For I was born with such a hideous face, that my mother couldn't bear to see me. My only company in the house was my dog, Sasha. She was the only one who could bear to be in contact with me, for my mother didn't even dare to touch me. I grew to be a prodigy. I had developed a big amount of knowledge in architecture and music especially, because of my long hours in the house's library. I made my own architectonic blueprints and composed my own music. I could play piano so professionally at such a young age, that I could've rivaled Mozart. I had developed a great ability at mastering ventriloquism. I could make any object appear to have the power of speech. Soon, I also developed the magic of the illusion with mirrors. I made my own mirror maze with little pieces of broken mirror in my room. My mother soon became scared of my prodigious intelligence, and tried to pull me down, to keep me in the line. She kept neglecting me, ignoring me, and isolating me from that dreaded world. One day, when I lost control for the first time, it was on my fifth birthday. It was the first birthday they celebrated, for my mother always forgot them on purpose. It was because a friend of her requested it, that she acceded into giving me a little celebration in commemoration of my date of birth. In that moment, she told me to ask for a present, any present. I loved my mother dearly, despite the carelessness she showed before me. She had never given a real sign of affection toward me, and that was all I asked for… A sign of affection."

"What did you ask for?" Christine asked, deeply intrigued by Erik's past.

"Two… kisses."

"Kisses?"

"Yes, two kisses… One for that moment and one to keep."

"And did she…?"

"No. She didn't give them to me… She told me never to ask for something like that ever again. I got mad at that but forgot it quickly. Then, it was when a friend of hers, a doctor that wanted to marry her, arrived, that I finally lost it. That man was one of the reasons that drove me away from my home, because I knew he thought like everyone else and wanted me dead. Also the imprisonment my mother kept me in, and the indifference the people showed toward me, were some of the other reasons. But one that hit me deeply was the death of my dog, Sasha. She was killed by an angry mob that wanted to get rid of me just because of my…condition. Sasha fought against them and got her neck broken by one of the men in the mob. She had been my only real company. That was when I was more infuriated. I just wanted to kill them, kill them all. Later on, finally not being able of tolerating it any longer, I left. I wandered through the forest, having lost my only true friend and with hopes of not being seen again, I wandered and wandered. Then, I stumbled across a gypsy caravan. I got caught and was used as one of the main attractions. "The Devil's Child" was what they called me. I was the devil's horrible son." Erik stopped here. The painful memories of the freak show tortured his being to a point of madness. This was the one thing he didn't feel like talking about… So he just stopped there. "Then Mme. Giry came and freed me. She hid me in the Opera Popullaire and I have lived here ever since."

"Oh… I see…" Christine was speechless. Erik had just revealed to her a big deal of his life. Poor Erik. He had suffered from the day he was born. How could he bear all this to his own? But she had noticed something; he hadn't mentioned anything about his father, nothing at all. "What became of your father?"

"He died long before I was born. I was named after the priest that baptized me. My mother couldn't stand to name me after my father after all. I was so repulsive."

"Oh… I'm sorry Erik… I…"

"Don't be sorry for me…" Erik said sharply, "I don't want anyone's pity."

"I don't pity you!" Christine said urgently, "It's just… How could you tolerate all this… It's… I'm speechless… Erik…" but Erik cut her off.

"Yes! Yes! I know!" he suddenly burst out angrily, getting up from the couch and throwing his arms above his head in frustration, "Poor, unhappy Erik! Come on! Say it! Pity me! I know you do!"

But Christine stood up violently up, facing him with a frown on her face, "Don't put words in my mouth, Erik! You know I don't mean that! Stop behaving like such a child! I know this hurts you! But there's no need for you to get all angry about it!"

Erik suddenly sighed, abandoning his angry expression. He looked helplessly to the floor and avoided Christine's eyes.

"Forgive me…" Erik said all of a sudden, "It's just… that's the first time I've talked about my past. I'm not used to it. I feel so insecure whenever I remember what went before. Forgive me, Christine. You're right, I'm behaving so immaturely."

Christine's eyes then softened in sympathy, and all the anger she had felt a moment ago, diminished. She approached him and locked him in a warm hug. Erik stood shocked for a moment but returned the gesture with shaky hands. He hid his face in her shoulder and gave a weak sob.

"I miss her." Erik whispered softly in her ear. "My mother… I miss her…"

"Oh, Erik…" Christine said, rubbing his back.

"Regardless of what she did to me, she was my mother… and nothing can change that. I love her nonetheless."

"Even though I didn't get to know her well, I loved my mother too." Christine said, "She died when I was very young. But even though she's not here anymore, I love her still. Same thing with my father."

"Erik… what would've happened if my parents lived and yours loved you?" Christine asked out of the blue, resting her head on his chest.

Erik pondered for a second, and then answered simply, "I wouldn't have met you…."

Christine's eyes widened in realization. He was right. Had her parents been alive and had Erik's mother loved him, they would've never met.

"Yes… you're right." Christine said, "I'm so glad I had the opportunity to know you…"

Erik smiled, touched, "I can say the same thing about you… I don't know what would've been of me if I hadn't heard you that fateful night, 3 years ago."

Christine smiled lightly and straightened up to look at him. "Yes. That night, I felt no fear when I first saw you, I just felt more drawn to you than before. You know, you were truly an Angel. In some sort of way, you were really guarding me and guiding me. And I thank you for that."

He stroked her hair gently, "And I thank you for giving me a reason to go on…" and gave her a smile. She smiled shyly back at him. Then, her smile vanished and she sneezed strongly all of a sudden.

"Bless you." Erik said, rummaging in his pockets and handing her a handkerchief.

"Thank you…" she said, taking the handkerchief and blowing her nose, "Damned dust." She said, coughing a little.

"We should really get ourselves to cleaning this place, you know?" Erik said matter-of-factly.

"I agree." she said. She approached the cleaning materials and took out a very battered feather duster, "I'll dust."

"I'll mop then…" Erik took a mop and a bucket of water. He dipped the mop in the bucket and started cleaning the floor. Christine too started her work and started dusting the Angel picture that stood on the wall.

Erik meanwhile cleaned the floor by moving the mop back and forth in a circular pattern, the wooden floorboard's real color finally being revealed. Erik felt a bit weird, since he wasn't accustomed to cleaning like this, his lair didn't need much maintenance after all.

After quite some time, both of them finished their respective jobs. The floor was shining clean now, the floorboards glistening brightly as if showing off their condition, and the dust had been cleared off completely from all the room, making it look less old. The only things to work on now were on the window, the wall, the table, and the desk. Also it looked like they could do with a new couch and new curtains, not to mention that the wall needed some serious painting. The desk and table were no problem, though, a little polishing would do.

"I can get the curtains," Erik said, "I have some I don't use, back in my lair."

"I can get the paint then," Christine said, "I'll ask Mme. Giry where I can get some."

As they both nodded, they went to retrieve the paint and the curtains. Christine found Mme. Giry and she told her she could find paint in the stable. Christine went to the stables and took some paint cans and brushes she found there and headed back to the office. Erik, meanwhile, went down to his lair through the mirror. He reached his lair and rummaged in a chest that lied beside the table with his drawings. He found several rejected costumes and pieces of cloth. He rummaged further and found what he was looking for. He found some red satin curtains with golden embroideries in immaculate state. He took the curtains in his arms and headed back up again.

They both returned to the office almost at the same time, carrying their burdens. Christine lowered the cans and opened each one of them. They were three cans. One was full of a dark-blue paint, the other one was a lime green one, and the third one was a soft cream color.

"What color should we use?" Christine asked Erik.

"Um… I don't know… which one do you think best fits the curtains?" Erik said, holding to curtain out for her to see. Christine inspected the curtains with close examination, occasionally looking back at the paints and back at the curtains.

"Mmm… I think I like the cream one, " she said finally, "Looks nice with red."

"I agree." He said. "I think I'll paint. Maybe you could work on the window. You know, clean it before we hang the curtains?"

"Sure, why not." She said, smiling at him. She refilled the bucket with clean water and proceeded with submerging a piece of cloth in it. She then took it out, rinsed it well, and started cleaning the windowpane, rubbing hard against the resistant dirt.

Erik too started his work. He took off his coat and vest, leaving only his white shirt on. He didn't want to stain his garments with paint; it would take a lot of handiwork to get the smudge off. He then took the cream paint can and dipped one of the brushes in it. He shook off the excess and started painting. Up and down he went, with soft, well-calculated strokes in an even pattern. He made sure to make it smoothly, getting rid of the bubbles that formed occasionally on the paint's surface.

Christine meanwhile, held a battle with the defiant dirt that refused to disappear. She rubbed hard against the glass, rubbing off the grime and filth that gathered from the long periods of neglect through the years. The good thing is that she was almost done. Just some more cleaning to do and the glass would be sparkling clean.

After some minutes, Erik had already covered the whole room, only a tiny place missing just beside the couch. He covered the space with a last stroke and threw the paintbrush to the can. He heaved a great sigh and sat on the floor to rest.

"Done." He said, closing his eyes and resting his arms over his legs.

Christine turned to look at him. He brushed some sweat off his forehead, and fanned his face with his hand. She smiled but then, her smile turned into an evil grin.

"Are you hot, Erik?" she asked mischievously.

"A bit." He said, not looking at her while still fanning himself. He had his back to her. Christine smirked wider and picked up the bucket of water slowly and silently.

"Oh, poor Erik." She said, while advancing at him leisurely, holding the bucket of water high. "Maybe a little refreshment will do you good?"

"Huh?" Erik made to turn around, but was caught by surprise when Christine tipped the bucket over him, dunking him with cold water all over.

"ARGHH!" Erik jumped to his feet, soaking wet, his clothes dripping and his hair falling over his forehead. Christine burst out laughing loudly. She clapped her hands to her mouth in an attempt to stifle the laughs, but to no avail.

"Why do you always have to wet me?" Erik said, outraged, shaking off the water from his sleeve and combing his hair back angrily.

"Because you're utterly funny when I do so!" Christine said, giving some giggles.

"Oh, you find this funny?" Erik said menacingly.

"Yes." She said, stifling some laughs.

"So, I'm your laughingstock?" he added, mocking a face of being offended.

"Kind of." She said, smiling mischievously, "You do have a knack of making me laugh!"

"Oh, I see," He said, adopting and evil grin, "Then I'll give you something to really LAUGH FOR!"

He then lunged at her, but Christine saw that coming and dodged him.

"Oh no!" Christine said, "I know what you're thinking! You did that to me down on the lake and I won't let you do it again!"

"You're so perceptive," he said, grinning, "Come here!"

He lunged at her again, but she again evaded him.

"No!" she said, giggling, running away from him. But Erik was too fast for her, and, with a swift movement, he pinned her down on the couch.

"Got you." he whispered in her ear.

"No! Don't you dare!" she threatened, still giggling.

"What if I dare?" he asked.

"You'll regret-" But she got cut off as she was invaded by a fit of laughter. Erik was tickling her sides non-stop, Christine struggling and twisting under him.

"Stop!" she said between laughs. "Stop it!" But he didn't stop. He tickled her harder, sending her into another fit of laughter.

"Boy, if you're ticklish…" he whispered to her, chuckling in her ear. He gave it a rest, letting her regain her breath, supporting himself above her with his arms at either side of her head in the cushion.

"You're an scoundrel," she said, smiling. She rubbed his wet chest, tracing the muscles beneath his shirt.

"Yes… I'm evil." He said, kissing her cheek delicately. She only smiled, letting him kiss her. He kissed her softly and tenderly, tracing kisses down her jawbone and down her neck. He kissed her throat lovingly, sending waves of warmth down Christine's body. He continued tracing little kisses up her neck and beneath her ear. Christine heaved a soft moan and closed her eyes.

"No…" she moaned, "Wait…"

Erik stopped at her command, staring curiously at her.

"Not…here," she told him, "someone may come."

Erik nodded and gave her another little kiss on her cheek, "I love you." he whispered in her ear.

"Me too," She whispered back, caressing his face, "Me too…"

Erik straightened up and Christine sat up, resting her head on his shoulder and sighing. They both surveyed the room in silent examination. The walls were painted, the window was clean, the floor was mopped, the room dusted… Only thing left were the polishing of the desk and table and to change the curtains.

"What should we do now?" Christine asked him. They waited. Suddenly, a little metal coil sprang through the couch's surface beside Christine, a bit of cotton escaping the rupture.

"Buy a new couch." Erik said simply.

"Yes, that would be a great idea, "she said, sighing and playing with the little coil with her finger. Erik stood up and Christine did too.

"We should first take this one outside and then we'll figure out where to get a new couch." Erik said. "Think you can help me carry it?"

"Sure." Christine said. At this, Erik nodded and went to one edge of the couch; Christine did the same and went to the other edge. He placed his hands under the couch and Christine followed him.

"All right…" he said, "At the count of 3, we lift it and walk through the door. All right?" Christine nodded.

"Okay. 1…2…. 3!" Erik said. And with one straining grunt, both lifted the couch off the ground. It was not that heavy, but it still weighted a bit. They made it through the door and starting walking down the hallway. They reached the border of the staircase, stopped, and lowered the couch carefully.

"This is going to be difficult." Erik panted, resting on the edge of the couch in front of the stairs. "How are we going to get this down the stairs without breaking a limb?"

"I don't know…" Christine panted. She sat on the opposite edge of the couch, but since they were in the border of the stairs, Christine's pressure on the couch pushed it forward off the border easily. With a deafening gasp, Erik fell back on the cushions as the couch slid down the stairs rapidly. Christine managed to jump up in time before the couch dragged her with it down the staircase. The noise reverberated strongly across the room as the couch made its way to the landing, crashing on each step as it advanced, Erik wide eyed at this undesired and troublesome journey. Finally, the couch reached the landing with a loud _thud _and the silence invaded the room

"Uh…. Erik? Are you all right?" Christine asked him loudly from above the stairs.

Down in the landing, on the couch, Erik straightened up, supporting himself with his arms. He wore a very shaken, yet angry, look on his face, his hair ruffled all over.

"DAMN YOU, WOMAN!" Erik yelled at her, "YOU WANT TO KILL ME, DON'T YOU!"

But at this point, Christine was laughing at his apparently funny reaction. Erik rolled his eyes and fell back on the couch, groaning and closing his eyes. Christine ran down the stairs to him and leaned over the back of the couch, looking down at him.

"Had a nice trip?" she asked playfully, smiling at him tenderly.

"I'm still angry with you..." he informed her, almost with a teasing tone in his voice.

"Oh, how sad." She said, mocking a face of regret. She then leaned over and gave him a small and soft kiss on the lips, which he returned, despite the fact that "he was still angry with her." He opened his eyes and they smiled to each other.

"What was all that racket?" came Mme. Giry's voice.

Erik and Christine straightened up as she came trotting to the Entrance Hall where the couch was. Erik sprang up, trying to look as if nothing had happened. Mme. Giry bumped into them with a very outraged look on her face.

"What was all that noise about?" she asked them urgently.

Erik and Christine looked at each other in search of a good excuse.

"Um… Erik…Erik just found a very creative way of transporting the couch from up the stairs to the landing, Madame," Christine said, smiling, "That's all."

Erik turned his head at her in alarm. He gaped at her incredulously and accusingly. First of all, it was HER who pushed the couch off the stairs! It was her idea! Secondly, he had been the victim of it all! And now she blamed him for all the commotion he had clearly not caused. Christine had to repress a laugh with her hand at the sight of Erik's astonished face.

Mme.Giry shook her head reprovingly at Erik, who rolled his eyes and crossed his arms like if he were a little boy being reprimanded by his mother.

"Next time, don't do such a noise! It seemed like we were under attack!" she said, "I'll send for some people to help you carry this thing to the stable. Then you can go and buy a new one. The Opera will cover the costs."

Both nodded at this.

"I'll go call someone." Mme. Giry said, scurrying away through a door, leaving Erik and Christine alone.

"Thank you for covering me, Christine," Erik said sarcastically.

"No problem," she said sardonically while smiling at him. Erik just rolled his eyes and turned his head away, heaving a sigh.

"Women…." He muttered.

"Oh, men are such crybabies…" she retorted back.

"Well," Erik said, "We should at least move the couch closer to the door to save time."

Christine nodded to him and both resumed their places on each side of the couch. They lifted it again and moved toward the door that led to the stables. Boy, this couch had suddenly turned heavy. Christine closed her eyes shut tightly due to the incredible force she was exerting on lifting the heavy object. Suddenly, the couch didn't weight so much anymore. Christine opened her eyes and she found two blonde-haired boys, middle aged they seemed, standing on the back of the couch, helping Erik and Christine carry it. On the opposite side, another boy, slightly older than the others with brown hair, held the couch too.

"Madame Giry told us you might need some help…" The older-looking boy said, smiling, "I've brought some of my friends with me so they could help too."

"Thank you!" Christine said.

"Now, mademoiselle, we'll take care form here." One of the younger boys said. He gently took Christine's place. Now the four of them, Erik and the boys, took the couch from each of its sides and took it to the stables, Christine following them closely in case they needed any help, though they seemed to be doing okay.

Once they arrived there, they were instantly invaded by the smell of hay and soil. The horses neighed eagerly at their arrival; Numerous horses were guarded by the stable boys in their enclosures, their pelts ranging from white, brown, black, cream, and so on. The foursome dropped the couch in one corner of the room, sighing from the weight being relieved from them.

"Thank you for the help," Erik told the older-one. He stretched his hand and the boy shook it gladly, smiling.

"No problem!" he said, "I'm Kyrian, by the way."

The boy named Kyrian was tall, handsome and strong looking. Even though he was older than the other two boys, he didn't look older than 25. He had brown hair that in length reached the base of his neck on the backside. His fringe was divided in two and its locks fell nicely over both his eyebrows, leaving his forehead practically clear. He had bright turquoise eyes and he had a well-built body, not very muscular, but more of a normal build.

"Nice to meet you, Kyrian," Erik said, bowing his head slightly. "I'm-"

"Erik, I know," he said, smiling, " And she's Christine Daaé. You two are quite famous in here."

He shook Christine's hand gently and placed a little courtesy kiss on her hand.

"It's a pleasure meeting you." Kyrian said, giving a pleasant smile.

"Likewise." Christine said, smiling.

"And who are your friends?" Erik asked him as he glanced at the two younger boys in the far end of the room, who were feeding some horses with hay.

"Oh, them…" Kyrian said, looking back at them, "Hey! Guys! Come over here!" he called them.

The two boys left what they were doing and approached Kyrian.

"Hey, Kyr!" said one of the blonde boys.

"Hey, Colin!" Kyrian replied.

Colin was a tall boy of his normal age; just a tad bit smaller that Kyrian in height. He looked no older than 20 and had a happy, boyish grin on his face, his blue eyes flashing brightly. He had his dirty blonde hair at the same length that Kyrian's, at the base of his neck and had great part of his fringe combed to a side, and the other half tucked neatly behind his ear. He shook hands with Erik and Christine politely.

"My name is Colin, nice to meet you, monsieur Erik and mademoiselle Christine." He said, "This beside me, is my twin brother Briand. Well, we're not very physically alike, but we were born on the same day."

"Hi." said Briand.

He was almost the same as his brother, only that his dirty-blonde hair was a bit longer and fell one inch over his shoulders. His blue eyes shone happily as he shook hands with Christine and Erik. Briand looked so familiar to Christine, despite the fact that she had never seen this boy before. Then, something clicked in her mind. His hairstyle. It looked almost like…it kind of held a resemblance to Raoul's, but not too much. The only thought of him made a shiver run down her spine, and she decided to shake his memory off. She smiled back to Briand, pretending nothing had happened.

"It's a pleasure meeting you…" Briand said, "We've heard a lot of you two. You're not a bit of what the stagehands once told us about you, Phantom of the Opera."

Erik stiffened a little at the mention of his pseudonym, but held his composure, showing no emotion in his face.

"Oh, and what exactly did they used to tell you about me?" Erik asked unemotionally.

"It's nothing-" Kyrian said immediately but couldn't finish. Somehow, he could feel that this was not a good idea. They had touched a very delicate topic.

"They said you had this pale skin and a hole where your nose ought to be." Colin said, rather nervously. "Something like that… really nasty stuff."

"Whatever you heard about him are just silly rumors," Christine said defensively, " They're nothing but filthy lies."

"We know…" Briand said, "We know that now that we've met you in person. And monsieur Erik is not a raving psychotic lunatic like they used to say he was. I wonder what gave them those silly ideas about him; you look like a very decent man, monsieur Erik." Briand added.

"But…" Colin started, "Not everything is a rumor, is it?"

"Colin…" Kyrian started menacingly, but his voice tone made no effect on Colin whatsoever.

"What do you mean?" Erik asked curiously.

"You did crash the chandelier, didn't you?" Colin asked, a tiny hint of fear clear in his voice. "And… you killed those people?"

Erik froze. His face turned a bit pale at the mention of the disaster he had caused. All the memories had drifted back to him in a typhoon of reminiscence, flooding his soul with painful memoirs. He looked away, and Christine could see a bit of perspiration forming in his brow.

"Colin…" she started, placing her hand on his shoulder gently, "I can't deny you what is the awful truth, neither can Erik; there's no use in even trying to hide it from you, but you must understand, that what happened was a long time ago, and things now have changed. Erik is no longer a person to be feared, for he will never hurt you. You can trust in him fully now."

Briand and Colin sighed in relief after containing their breaths in the shocking moment and gave off a smile. Kyrian smiled as well when he was reassured that there was nothing to be fearful about. He was afraid some of the rumors could be true and Erik would rampage on them for their defying statements.

"Besides, would you think I'd be with him if he were some psychotic lunatic?" Christine added playfully, nagging him with her elbow. "I'm not crazy you know…"

Colin, Briand and Kyrian couldn't help expressing a grin at the joke. Erik too couldn't help but smile as well.

"If he REALLY was a Lunatic, he would've kill you all by now…" she said, "Just joking…" she added as she noticed a trace of fear invade the younglings' eyes.

She chuckled a bit, "I assure you, and you'll have nothing to fear. You can have your trust in Erik, and he will never harm you. He never harms his friends. He would rather kill himself."

"You're nothing like the rumors, Phantom…" Kyrian said, "And I'm glad for that." He smiled at him.

Erik smiled, relief flooding his blue-green eyes.

"I'm glad you think like that, Kyrian…" Erik told him, "It's difficult to convince people I've changed."

"I understand," Kyrian said, "People can be so blind sometimes…You can't really blame them, tough. They're just scared and insecure. They fear the unknown. And with all due respect monsieur, I must admit you're a living mystery, it's hard to know what you're thinking when we know almost nothing but distorted facts about you, especially since you always keep a very set façade around you. But somehow, I can feel that you're not the person that people say you are. I know it sounds stupid, but I know you're nothing like the rumors the crew used to spread. "

"I like your thinking," Erik said, "You certainly know what you're talking about and you're very perceptive. Very few people are like you, which make it difficult for me to have a true friendship."

"Well, you've gotten yourself new friends…" Kyrian told him smiling, "Didn't he, guys?" he added to the little brothers.

"Totally!" Briand said happily.

"You can count on me!" Colin said.

Erik couldn't help but smile. Christine just hugged the three of them in one big hug, "You're such sweethearts!" she told them, "I'm glad you've seen through the lies and the rumors, and have seen through Erik's true being, I'm truthfully glad. You act more maturely than most adults in this opera."

"Yeah," Colin said, "But you must take into account that most of the crew is highly superstitious."

"No kidding…" Briand agreed, " I mean, who would believe in ghosts?"

"BOO!" someone screamed all of a sudden behind Briand. Briand gave a startled jump as he turned his head around to see the origin of this joke.

"That was not funny, Jean!" He told the girl that now stood laughing at him.

Jean had auburn hair and pretty emerald eyes. She had rosy cheeks and beautiful pink lips. She had her hair tied up in a half ponytail. She looked exactly like Briand and Colin's age.

"I thought you didn't believe in ghosts. You're a scaredy-cat, Briand…" Jean told him, smiling at him. Briand glared at her, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"I was not scared…" Briand retorted looking away.

"You sure?" Colin said playfully, "You should've seen your face! You were totally spooked out!"

"You're so supportive, thank you brother," Briand said sarcastically.

"Jean!" another voice came. This time, 2 girls entered the stables, calling after the Auburn-haired girl.

"Hey Renna, hi Yvonne!" Jean called back to the upcoming girls.

"Scaring Briand out of his wits again?" The girl called Yvonne asked, smirking.

Yvonne looked like the twins and Jean's age. Just teenagers. She had long, silver blonde hair that reached her waist. She had pale hazel eyes and light skin and slim body.

"Come on, girls," the other girl, named Renna, said, "you know that's not very lady-like!"

Renna had beautiful blonde hair that matched perfectly with her golden eyes. She was taller than the other girls, and she looked like the equivalent of Kyrian in age, only in female. She had well toned muscles and a tan in her light skin. She had light freckles adorning her cheek and she had a motherly feeling to her.

The three girls were all wearing tutu's, meaning that they were probably in their break from the ballet lessons.

"Come on, Renna!" Yvonne said, grinning, "You know it's funny how Jean is always scaring Briand. It never gets old, and the faces he adopts are priceless!"

Briand glared at the two giggling girls. Colin and Kyrian were just watching in silent amusement and Erik and Christine were kind of clueless with the sudden outbursts.

"It's still pretty immature," Renna said, "And you're not little children anymore."

"Okay okay…I won't do it again." Jean said, sighing.

Suddenly, Renna caught sight of Erik and Christine.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she said, "Sorry for all the racket!"

"No problem." Christine told her reassuringly.

"My name is Rhyanna, but you can call me Renna." She said, shaking Christine and Erik's hand.

"You must be Christine, the ballet assistant?" Renna asked.

"Yes," Christine said.

"Pleasure!" she smiled, and then she turned at Erik, "And you must be…. Erik. You are…." She doubted a second, "You are…. The Phantom, are you not?"

Erik nodded silently. The interesting thing about Renna is that she didn't have fear in her eyes, not even a tiny bit of apprehension, just a tiny sparkle of curiosity and wonder adorned her golden eyes.

"Yes he is, but we're not talking about it, okay?" Kyrian told her, resting his elbow on her shoulder and faking a smile. "Ixnay on the antom-phay…" he whispered in her ear. Renna grimaced like if thinking he was acting stupid.

(1)"I'm afraid I can understand piglatin, or whatever you call it." Erik said, "But you'll find that I don't mind you talking about the Phantom issue anymore."

"Thank you monsieur Erik," Renna said, smiling at him and shoving Kyrian off her shoulder, "I was not going to say anything wrong! I was just going to say that I find you really fascinating, monsieur! Unlike some of my friends here…" she said, glancing at Kyrian.

"So you're the Voice Teacher?" Yvonne asked Erik.

"Yes." Erik answered.

"Well, good luck… You'll need it. That damned post is cursed." Jean said simply.

"JEAN!" Yvonne, Renna and Kyrian shouted together.

"What?" Jean shrugged, trying to look innocent.

But unlike her friends' reactions, Christine and Erik found Jean's comment rather amusing.

Suddenly, they felt a scraping sound and everyone turned to the corner of the stable from which the noise came from. They found one of the horses, a light cream-colored mare, chewing on the old couch's cushion happily over its wooden fence.

It had its neck outstretched over the restrictive fence, chewing and gnawing at the fabric that enveloped the couch's surface, making the cotton sprang out. Its white mane and tail contrasted beautifully against its pale cream-colored pelt. It had a diamond-shaped white mark on its forehead, and its hairy hoofs were also white; running from the knee to the ankle, it was pure white. Its silver hooves pawed the ground impatiently while it turned its head to the on looking group.

"Cloud! Leave that alone!" Renna shouted at the horse. Cloud, the mare, neighed animatedly, as if daring Renna to say that again. Renna approached her and took the piece of fabric of her mouth, "You're a naughty girl!" Cloud neighed a bit and licked Renna's face.

"I guess your horse is not the only one this intelligent is it?" Christine told Erik, smiling, "Cloud seems to understand human language as well."

"You must take into account that I took Caesar right from this same stable. The horses in the opera seem to be more intelligent than average horses." Erik said.

"And why is that?" Christine asked.

"I don't know…" Erik admitted, "Being tied up in a place full of culture, you're bound to learn something."

Christine chuckled at his "clever" deduction and Erik shrugged.

"I'm sorry," Renna said, "I think Cloud has…. massacred your couch… or what was left of it, anyways."

"Don't worry, Renna," Erik reassured her, "We're going to buy a new one today. We discarded that one just moments ago."

"Oh… So…I guess there's no problem with her slaughtering it?" Yvonne asked.

"I suppose not." Christine said.

Cloud neighed happily and continued gnawing on the fabric. She definitely could understand humans.

"We must go buy the new one then, if you don't mind us coming with you, Monsieur?" Kyrian asked Erik, "You might need some help."

"If you don't mind coming, then you're totally welcome, my young friend." Erik reassured him with a smile. " There's nothing better than a helping hand."

"Couldn't agree more." Kyrian muttered, "Colin! Briand! Go prepare the cart."

"Yes, sir!" Colin and Briand muttered together, raising their hands to their foreheads in salutation.

"But what horse should we use?" Briand asked.

Cloud then started neighing happily, rearing on her back feet slightly, as if saying 'Me! Me!'

"Okay, we're taking Cloud." Colin said, grinning.

After some minutes, Colin and Briand had the cart ready with everything and even the horse.

"Everything ready, chief!" Colin announced.

"Then, everyone on board!" Kyrian said.

"Oh, we can't go…" Jean said sadly, "We got Ballet practice in some minutes."

"Oh…pity." Kyrian said, "See you later then, girls. See you later Renna."

"Until then…" Renna said, waving goodbye to Kyrian. "Come one girls, we have to go!" she added, addressing Jean and Yvonne.

And off they went, scurrying inside for their ballet lessons. Colin finished tying Cloud properly and Erik helped Christine up the seat of the cart. They all mounted on the cart and Kyrian took the reins.

Kyrian urged Cloud, and she began trotting out the stable, taking them into the city. She trotted happily across the streets, throwing her mane about. They were silent for the whole journey, until Erik spoke to Kyrian.

"Do you feel something for mademoiselle Renna?" Erik asked him after noticing his vacant stare.

"What?" Kyrian inquired, taken aback.

"I see it in the way you look at her," Erik told him, "You feel something towards her, don't you?"

Kyrian's cheeks flushed a bit. Briand sniggered.

"Well, he certainly has to feel something for her if he had the bravery to ask her to be his girlfriend," Briand said.

"Thank you, Briand," Kyrian said, his cheeks flushing a bit more.

"She accepted, I presume?" Erik asked.

"Of course she did!" Colin added, "She felt the same way towards him."

"Anyways, we arrived to the shop, can we go see the furniture now?" Kyrian asked, changing the subject drastically as he got off from the cart.

"Touchy, isn't he?" Briand said, scoffing at Kyrian's figure entering the shop. The city was very crowded today. People strolled about, minding their own business, never risking a second glance to the group, no even Erik's white mask, which was quite noticeable among the tumult.

"Christine, you better wait for us here," Erik said, "We won't take long."

"All right." Christine said.

Erik gave her a small smile before disappearing into the shop with Colin and Briand.

She decided to climb off and stroke Cloud or something. She approached the young mare and stroked her mane. It was heavenly soft, her white hair caressing Christine's fingers as she stroked her. Cloud turned her head to her and gnawed on her curls. Christine giggled, stroking her nose. Suddenly, as she looked away, her smile disappeared from her and she was drained from all the color as she stared wide-eyed down the street.

Raoul….

It was Raoul… But he was not alone. He had two men accompanying him. He was chatting heatedly with the one on his right, while the left one inspected his surroundings like if looking for something. Both thugs looked highly menacing, and their white clothes didn't help at all. She had seen those types of clothes before. The only people who wore those kinds of garments were the workers of the city's Asylum. And the worst part is that they were walking towards her direction.

What was Raoul doing with that people? Whatever it was, Christine didn't want to find out right now. Without Raoul seeing her, she entered the shop in haste, searching for Erik. She had to tell him, Raoul mustn't see him! The door's bell tinkled as she made her way inside.

"Erik!" she called. The shop was huge and was practically empty, but she still could find Erik or the boys. She ran through the varied furniture: chest drawers, beds, tables, chairs, etc…

Suddenly, she heard the bell tinkle again. She looked back and saw Raoul entering. The two thugs entered behind him, their threatening appearances no less menacing under the shop's dim light.

Christine made her way through the furniture, trying to reach the stairs to the second floor to see if she could find Erik there. Raoul followed deadly close, but couldn't see her. She was as silent as she could as she finally reached the winding stairs. She climbed them hastily and as silently as she could, panting at the stress. And what made matters worse, was the fact that Raoul had the same idea that her and began climbing the stairs after her, though he still couldn't see her, for she was farther up the steps than him. Then, she tripped and fell. She remained silent, though she had a strong pain on her leg. Raoul was about to reach her, when he stopped and turned around. Her heart stopped dead in her chest, like if her pulsing heart could be heard outside and could give her away. She held her breath as she looked at Raoul. He muttered something to the thugs. They nodded and stayed in the lower level. Christine took advantage of this distraction and stood up, quickly climbing what remained of the stairs.

"Erik…" she whispered, desperately looking for him. She looked through the bookshelves, tables, and couches… Erik must be here. And so she was right, she heard voices at the far end of the room. She hurried her pace and when she turned on a relatively large bookshelf, she found the foursome staring at one couch. It was a dark red-colored one, with comfortable looking cushions. It was so big; it could fit 4 people sitting in it.

They chatted excitedly between each other, without paying attention to her, until her panting breath gave her away. Everyone turned to look at her curiously.

"Christine," Erik started, "What are you doin-" but he was cut off as Christine lunged at him and covered his mouth with her hand. With her free hand, she placed her index finger atop her lips. Erik's eyes stared at her quizzically, but her fear-filled eyes gave away her strange behavior. After that, some steps were heard beyond the bookshelf that covered them.

"Raoul." She mouthed to him. Erik's eyes widened in apprehension at the word. He took her by the arms and dragged her away.

"Take the couch down!" Erik mouthed to the boys, and then placed a finger on his lips. The boys understood, and made to carry the couch. Then, Raoul appeared from the corner of the bookshelf.

Erik snatched her out of Raoul's sight and dragged her behind another piece of furniture, just in time to avoid disaster. Raoul was about to walk into them when Kyrian saluted Raoul to help them out.

"Good Afternoon, monsieur le Vicomte!" Kyrian said happily, making Raoul turn his back on them.

"Good morning," Raoul responded unemotionally, his back still at them, "Boy. Have you seen a beautiful brunette roaming the streets lately? Her name is Christine Daaé."

Christine froze and Erik covered her mouth as a whimper escaped her lips. Erik peeked his head over the furniture. Raoul had his back on him and Kyrian was just in front of him.

"NO!" Erik mouthed to Kyrian.

"Er…er… no, sir, I haven't…" Kyrian said, rapidly dragging his sight back to Raoul after staring at Erik some seconds before.

"Well, if you see her, inform me immediately." Raoul told him sternly.

"Yes sir," Kyrian said.

Erik took advantage of Raoul's distraction and dragged Christine behind another furniture towards the stairs. They crouched behind the objects, trying hard to remain as silent as possible as they made their way to the stairs.

Raoul had not come here to buy something, but to search for her. Those thugs were for that too. Why wouldn't he give up?

They finally made it to the stairs and ran down them as fast as they could, Kyrian behind them while Raoul searched in the far end of the room, giving them time.

Down on the landing, they encountered the thugs looking at some objects hanging from the walls; Mirrors. They also encountered Briand and Colin paying to an old, white haired man for the couch and lifting it to take it outside.

Erik and Christine crouched rapidly behind the couch just in time to avoid the thugs seeing them.

"Move along with the couch and we'll take you out of here…" Briand whispered to Erik. Erik nodded as he crouched beside Christine. Briand, Colin, and Kyrian lifted the couch and began carrying out of the shop, Erik and Christine following their pace silently. The thugs turned around and stared at them. Erik crouched as lower as he could as the boys continued their way. They smiled innocently at the menacing thugs.

"Good morning, gentleman!" Colin said pleasantly, "Nothing but a couch here! That's right!"

And everyone wanted to kick Colin right there. He was practically giving them away.

The thugs muttered something under their breaths and turned back again. Erik heard Briand sigh with relief.

They quickly got out of the shop, pushed the couch over the cart and got on. Kyrian hurriedly urged Cloud to start trotting. She trotted away, the shop getting farther and farther as they made their way back to the Opera House.

They arrived, and Erik and Christine sighed, reclining on the seat.

"Mademoiselle…" Colin addressed Christine, "Is the Vicomte the reason why we shouldn't reveal your whereabouts?"

Christine hesitated, and then nodded, closing her eyes. She shuddered a bit and Erik hugged her to him.

"Did he hurt you, mademoiselle?" Briand asked.

"Briand, please," Kyrian started, "she doesn't want to talk about it. She'll tell us is she feels like it, but right now it's not a good time."

Erik thanked Kyrian in his mind for shutting down the questions.

"Right now we should get the couch to the teachers' office," Kyrian said.

And everyone helped carry the brand new couch to Erik and Christine's office. They positioned it where the old one once was and sighed with relief.

"Thank you for your help, boys," Christine said. She had regained back her composure after the shock with Raoul's arrival to the shop. "You've been of great help today."

"It was our pleasure, mademoiselle," Kyrian said, bowing his head. The twins did the same and bid their goodbyes. After the boys left, Erik slumped on the couch tiredly, groaning and stretching his arms over the couch's back.

Christine sat down beside him and rested her head on his chest.

"What a day…" Christine muttered.

"Tell me about it…" Erik said, without opening his eyes, "I'm so exhausted."

Christine sighed. And surveyed the room.

"We still have to change the curtains…." She said tiredly, looking up at him, "and polish the table…."

"I'll do it…in a second…." Erik trailed off as he gave a large yawn. "I'll just…rest my eyes a bit…"

"I'll do the same…" Christine said, as she closed her eyes and nuzzled under his neck. "Just for a few moments…"

* * *

Mme. Giry walked towards the office with a tray on her hands. She had some food for Erik and Christine. She brought a big plate of some delicious-smelling meat and vegetables soup she had made herself, and some wine for them. She reached the office and knocked on the door, holding the tray with one hand. However, no response came.

"They must be really busy," she opened the door and came inside.

She gaped at the sight of the room, "Incredible! You really gave a real make up to this old office! It's beautiful, Erik and Christine! Great job!"

Without looking at them, she made her way to the desk and lowered the tray on it.

"Since you've worked so hard today, I've made you some dinner," Mme. Giry said, "You really deserve it!"

She turned around to look at them and she stared. Her face turned into a tender and loving expression at the sight before her.

Erik and Christine sat on the couch, Christine resting her head on his shoulder, while he rested his head on hers. Both of them were fast asleep, a little smile playing across their lips. Christine was nestled beside him, while Erik had his arm around her waist unconsciously in a protective way.

"They certainly belong with each other…" Mme. Giry muttered, smiling broadly.

* * *

OMG! FINALLY DONEEEEE! Sorry for taking too long! Writer's Block sucks!

Anyway, this chapter is a little boring, yet, like always, it was necessary! Now, on with one of my favorite chapters! Chapter 8! Yay! I wish to thank Wisedragonqueen5 for letting me use the names of "Kyrian" and "Rhyenna".

Also, I would like to thank everybody for the encouraging reviews! They really make my heart leap with joy! And I can assure you this story will get better! (I hope ;)

By the way, since I didn't write in some time, I kind of lost my touch with the descriptions… I'm sorry guys, but this Writer's Block is really affecting me badly. I also felt my English got worse TT,TT… I'm such a loser…

* * *

(1) I know piglatin probably didn't exist at that time, but I find it quite funny and wanted to add it a bit; hope it doesn't break the credibility of the story too much.

Erik- STUPID FOP! HOW DARE HE SHOW HIS FOPPY FACE AGAIN! ;; -high on Snickers-

Feri- Oo…. Erik, have you slept at all?

Erik- He heh…No… BUT I'M AS GOOD AS NEW! And let's not mention my mind is clearer than ever! I no needy sleepy! No! no! No! Sleepy evil! If I sleep the Snicker monster will eat me/ He goes like 'ROOOOOOOOOOAR I'm gonna eat you!'… ;;

Feri- -backs away slowly- I think we'll have to send you to "Hyperactive-Chocolate-Eaters-Anonymous" or HCEA Oo… They could help you out and they could take the sugar off your blood…

Erik- NUUUUUUU! MY BLOOD! MY BLOOD! MY SUGAR! DIE FOP! -punjabs Random Raoul Plushie-

Feri- Erm… okee… Erik's lost it…he finally lost it… oo;;…. But we love him still, don't we?

-cricket chirps-

Feri- ….

Erik- -eye twitches freakishly-

Feri- oo;

* * *

R&R please! 


	8. Chapter 8: The Ring and the Rose

**"L'Ange de la Musique"**

**Chapter 8**

**"The Rose and the Ring"**

* * *

A few weeks had passed and Christine and Erik were quickly adjusting to their new jobs, working, as two normal people should. 

Erik's students were first fearful of their mysterious Voice Teacher, because of his mystifying appearance, his black garments, and his white mask. Some of them had only attended Erik's classes out of mere curiosity and to stare at the "man in the mask". They had first been scared of him by his authoritative form, but after some soothing words of encouragement from Erik (who was by then totally nervous on his first day of work), they quickly grew fond of him. With their fears diminished, they eagerly paid attention to every word Erik said. Not only did Erik taught them the basics of music and singing, but also came up with some interesting story once in a while that left the younger ones craving for more tale-telling. He would talk about the adventures he had read once in the books in his younger years, stories of how music came to be what it was, and much more.

In their breaks, some of them would stay behind, begging for Erik to tell them more stories. And so Erik would tell them little snippets from Jules Verne he would remember, fragments from Shakespeare, and little bits of stories written by other famous writers.

In a matter of days, Erik had made even the most horrid singer sound like an angel. Not like Christine of course, Erik thought, but good enough to impress the managers to an extent that the bond of trust between them grew bigger and bigger, especially with Firmin.

Firmin no longer deviated his gaze at the sight of him, and chatted with him comfortingly without any sign of apathy. Andre treated him even better than how he used to. He treated Erik like if he were a member of his own family. What had caused this unexpected change on the managers, Erik would never know, but he knew it had something to do with Andre's forgiving nature.

Christine had done quite well in her job as Ballet Assistant. She had not lost the grace she had acquired as a chorus girl during those 3 years of absence, and had much of her elasticity left in her limbs. She helped Mme.Giry teach the little apprentices, and correct the older ones. She gave them tips as how to maintain balance when doing a particularly complicated ballet pose, and how to adopt each of the different positions correctly with the less exertion possible.

They had both made a very good work at performing their jobs, and Erik had certainly changed a lot of people's view of him as a mysterious, dangerous man. Erik changed greatly, and Christine, more than anybody, had noticed this change; she loved him for that, for she knew that change is extremely difficult to accomplish. But she also knew, and it formed a little lump of anxiousness in the pit of her stomach at the sole thought of it, that Erik's old habits had not disappeared entirely and were still well hidden within his soul; should someone provoke him to the extent of making him utterly mad beyond reason, and the Opera Ghost would return.

Christine had seen it in his eyes. Every time Raoul was mentioned or they came to a close encounter with him, an indescribable rage flashed in Erik's turquoise eyes; that unmistakable, murderous glint that signaled the indubitable desire of killing resurfacing inside of him, flickered. But he controlled it; he knew that Christine didn't want him to do something that would get him into severe trouble, she loved him so.

Their working areas were almost adjacent. Christine worked on one side of the opera with the ballet girls, behind the stage; on a space beside it, with only some wooden beams dividing them, was Erik's working area, where the piano he had played for the managers was. There, he gave class to his students, mostly girls who were not unto the ballet business and would rather train their voice than their legs. Amongst the students were also some younger boys, youthful rafters and stable boys, who had taken a keen interest in musical education and therefore acceded into taking Erik's classes.

He taught them to sing. He trained their young voices to sing like they had never sung before. He had a singular, yet understandable, issue with the adolescent part of his class. The problem with the teenagers was the phase they were going through; it was the most difficult stage, the interval between childhood and manhood. The apprentices' voices broke frequently, sign of their adolescent development, and they usually had problems reaching very high notes, or very low notes.

Erik understood them fully, he himself went through that, and did his best to help them.

He didn't have problems with the feminine part of his students. From the youngest to the oldest, he made them sing so beautifully, that even God's chorus of angels would be jealous. Though, none of them could sing as beautifully as Christine did, Erik thought proudly, she had been his first apprentice ever, the first to hear his plea, and the first one to really understand the pain he was going through.

He had been a fatherly guardian for her when her father died, giving her constant support and training her in the art of singing, while she repaid him with her voice, her obedience and her blind love towards him.

In her younger years, he had been her invisible mentor, guardian, and angel. He was sometimes strict with her, but never too harsh on her. She had learned real obedience and discipline under his instruction. She learned perseverance and improvement; he had sort of fulfilled the education his father couldn't complete. For her, Erik had been some type of adoptive father, as to say… her Angel of Music, the angel her father had promised to deliver to her when he deceased.

Those old times… The reminiscence of those times swept over Erik, filling him with a tiny hint of nostalgia that subsided rapidly. She had been so innocent, so oblivious…

The chatter of his students brought him back to earth, and he snapped back to reality. He dismissed his class and took out his pocket golden clock. 6:45 pm. His time was already over. But Christine's was not.

As his class left noisily, he arranged his papers on the piano's top and meekly ventured a quick glance to Christine. He stared surprised as he noticed that Christine had turned exactly at the same time to gaze at him too. Both smiled humbly at each other, her eyes burying unto his pleasantly, his eyes regarding her cordially.

Their affective exchange didn't last long when Christine was called back to work. She returned with Mme.Giry to correct and instruct the little girls in their dance.

Erik sighed and gathered his papers. Placing them securely under his arm, he strolled back into his and Christine's office.

The office was totally renewed now. They had changed the velvet curtains for the crimson ones with the golden embroideries. Erik had polished the desk and the table neatly, giving them a beautiful shine as if they were new, although there was nothing he could really do for the termite-bitten leg of the table.

Erik threw the papers into the desk and stared at the grandfather clock he had moved from his lair to the office. It was 7 o'clock. Christine was out at 7:30 pm.

He sighed and decided to wait for her by the window. He had finished his report that same morning so he had a free evening that day. He placed his hands behind his back and sighed once again, adopting a pensive manner.

He opened the window and gazed down at the Parisian streets, watching the carriages pass by with the horses' hooves clattering noisily on the pebbled road. He looked up at the sky, placing his hands on the windowsill and leaning out. The heavens were already turning a dark blue hue. The sun was setting down, with the last streaks of light barely touching the ground. The yellow and orange quickly changed into a dark pink and purple color and finally, after the sun settled entirely, did the mantle of the night descend.

He decided to sit down on the couch to relax and he did. The ticking of the aged clock was soothing and pleasant. He started to feel drowsy. The silence and the constant ticking of the clock were soporific. The first rays of moonlight filtered through the curtains as a soft wind blew past the open window, making the curtains flow beautifully like water. The room was dark, except for the little rays of moonlight illuminating everything they touched.

He glanced once more at the glowing face of the clock being hit by the light. 7: 20 pm. Christine should be here any moment now. He gave a big yawn as he rested his head back on the puffy couch. Drowsiness was washing over him, and he found it hard to keep his eyelids from falling.

His calmness was interrupted by a knock on the door. Why was Christine knocking? It was her office too, after all, Erik thought. But it was not Christine the one that came through the door when he muttered '_come in'_… It was someone that brought his heart to his throat and a deep feeling of anxiousness to his being.

_Raoul_… 

Raoul was standing on the threshold, holding Christine forcefully in front of him like a shield with his right arm around her neck, and with a pistol on his left hand resting loosely at his side.

Christine had tears streaming down her face and was very pale with fear. She also had her hands tied securely behind her back, and her hair was in slight disarray, signaling that she had tried to fend him off, but to no avail. Raoul wore an evil grin across his face as he glared straight at Erik. The clock had stopped ticking and the curtains flowed fiercely against the now gusty wind that entered through the window. The only things that broke the silence were the roaring wind, Christine's fearful sobs, and Erik's heavy breathing.

Erik sprang up from the couch defensively, glaring back at Raoul with a hint of fear in his eyes.

"_You want her?"_ Raoul muttered as he slowly lifted the gun and pressed it painfully against Christine's jawbone. Christine gave a cry of both pain and fear at this, gazing helplessly at Erik with new tears flowing down her cheeks.

"_Free her_!" Erik shouted at Raoul, still frozen to the spot.

Raoul gave a sickening chuckle and his grin widened. He tightened his hold around her neck, strangling her. Christine gave a choking gasp and struggled against him, but there was no use, it only made Raoul tighten his grip on her even more. Raoul now lifted the gun to the side of her head and pressed the revolver tightly against it.

"_No_!" Erik shouted apprehensively, "_Let her go_!"

Raoul chuckled again and cocked his gun menacingly against her head. Christine could hardly breathe from the hold Raoul had on her neck, and made no further struggle out of fear and weakness.

"_No_! _Please_!" Erik pleaded with a shaky voice. He had never pleaded. Never. Let alone beg to someone like the Vicomte. what happened? Somehow, he couldn't move, no matter how hard he tried, his legs wouldn't move from their spot, but his mind would be urging him to protect her and knock the gun out of Raoul's hand. "_Don't_ _hurt_ _her_!"

But Raoul didn't listen. He laughed maniacally and glared at Erik evilly while pressing the gun even further against her head. Christine gave a weak gasp of pain as more tears rolled down her cheeks in terror.

"_Bid farewell to your precious love, Phantom_!" Raoul screamed as he pressed his finger on the trigger.

"**_NO_**!"

Raoul pulled the trigger and a deafening, ear-splitting shot rang through the room.

_CHRISTINE_!

---

"ERIK! WAKE UP!"

Erik eyes shut open suddenly as he was being shaken awake. He looked up and saw Kyrian staring worriedly at him. Erik had fallen asleep. And it seemed he had slipped sideways off his sitting position, for now he was resting flat on the soft cushions of the couch. His breathing was fast as he pulled himself up wit his arms. Kyrian backed up to give him some space as Erik stared around at the room.

It was already nighttime outside, but the room was vividly illuminated by the gas lamps that now burned lively. Erik glanced at the clock. 7:25 pm. He had just fallen asleep five minutes? It had seemed like an eternity for him. Then, everything had been a dream? Raoul, the gun, Christine, the shot… No, a nightmare… it had all been a nightmare. Erik reached with a hand and brushed a bit of sweat of his brow with the palm of his hand.

"Are you all right, Erik?" Kyrian asked him with concern, "You were trembling all over when I found you…Is anything wrong?"

Erik looked at him with confusion and then shook his head, sighing. He looked away. Everything had seemed so vivid, he couldn't believe he had fallen asleep, he hadn't noticed. Suddenly, Renna, Jean, and Yvonne came through the door towards Erik and Kyrian. Renna carried a glass of water on her hands and she offered it to Erik.

"Here you go," Renna said, giving him the glass, "It looked like you were having a seizure… are you all right monsieur Erik?"

Erik took the glass and took a sip of water. It refreshed him greatly and he regained some of the little color he had lost.

"Yes, I'm fine…" Erik said weakly, "I…where's Christine?" he asked all of a sudden, remembering the nightmare, hoping it wouldn't be a premonition.

"She's just having a word with Mme.Giry," Yvonne said reassuringly, "she'll be here in some minutes; the class is over."

Erik nodded, still a bit shaken from the vision he had had. He then looked at the four people before him.

"Can I ask…" Erik started, "Why are you here? Is there something I can help you with?" Erik said, for students weren't technically allowed into the offices unless called for or if in doubt of something concerning classes or important matters.

"Oh, that…" Kyrian started, "Well, Colin and Briand wanted to know…"

But just then, the young twins bustled into the room at the sound of their names.

"We wanted to know if you are in love with Mademoiselle Daaé!" Colin, the more lighthearted of the two, said happily. They may be young adults in age, but they still had the spirit of little children.

"With all due respect, sir, if you don't mind us asking…" Briand added, clearly embarrassed by his brother's carefree attitude against such a question, but at the same time admitting he was curious about the matter.

"You'll want to answer monsieur, unless you want Colin following you around asking the same question countless times…" Yvonne informed Erik, staring at Colin dully.

"Hey! I don't do that!" Colin retorted defensively.

"Actually, brother, you did that with Kyrian before he asked Renna to be his girlfriend…" Briand said with thought. He was the calmer of the two, the dreamer, and the planner. These two were like the Yin and the Yang. One was carefree, light, and playful, while the other one was reserved, calm, and pensive. But just like the Yin and Yang, they needed each other to keep that so called "balance".

"Thanks for the support, Briand!" Colin snapped sarcastically at his brother's answer. "It's good to know you're on my side!"

Briand just shrugged.

"So… do you have feelings for Miss Daaé?" Renna asked.

Erik chuckled and smiled. Such young and curious hearts, they had.

"Am I that obvious?" Erik asked them, smiling slightly.

The youngsters seemed to relax when they saw that Erik didn't find the question at all impertinent or rude, and felt much more comfortable. Erik too felt comfortable talking to them, for they acted with maturity that was almost beyond their age, well, except for Colin and Jean, if that was the case; they still had much to learn.

"You always look at her in-between classes…" Jean said smiling slyly, "I've seen the looks you give her."

"Me too!" Colin added.

Erik chuckled again. Renna, Jean and Yvonne were all in ballet lessons, while the boys were in Erik's voice class.

"Perceptive, are we?" Erik asked young Jean, smiling.

She shrugged, giving off a playful smile. She was the youngest of the lot, maybe about 16 or 17 in age, but still youthful at heart.

"Then, you do feel something for Mademoiselle Daaé?" Yvonne asked again.

Erik nodded silently, giving them a reassuring smile.

"Then… why don't you ask her out? I mean, invite her to supper or dinner!" Yvonne said excitedly, "I'm sure she feels the same way you do!"

Erik stared at her, like if failing to understand the idea.

"You know, ask her if she wants to be your companion, your soul mate." Kyrian said, wrapping an arm around Renna, who had sat just beside him.

"Just ask her if she wants to be your fiancée…" Colin said childishly, "You know, go straight to the point…"

Erik laughed.

"You don't want anyone to take her away from you!" Jean said.

Erik's expression then grew slightly somber as Raoul came to his mind.

"No," Erik said, seriously, "I don't want to."

"Then take the opportunity! Don't let it slip away!" Yvonne said.

"Why are you so concerned about my relationship with Mademoiselle Daaé all of a sudden?" Erik asked them curiously.

"Well… we want you two together…" Briand said, "With all due respect, monsieur, it's frustrating to see you both so deep in love but not being together in any matter…"

"So frustrating…" Jean said, sitting on the couch beside Kyrian and heaving a sigh.

"Come on, Erik!" Colin said, "Ask her out for dinner and ask her to be your fiancée! Don't be a coward!"

"Whoever said I was afraid of asking Miss Daaé out for dinner?" Erik challenged him, smiling slyly.

"Then that means you _are _going to ask her out for supper?" Briand asked.

"Yes," Erik said, "I just hope she accepts…"

"Oh, don't worry about that, Erik!" Jean said, "I'm sure she will."

"When are you going to ask her?" Colin asked.

Erik thought for a moment and then said, "Tonight… I'll ask her tonight and we'll have supper tomorrow, if she accepts of course."

"I'm sure she will-" but Yvonne got cut off. Just then, Christine's voice was heard out in the hallway.

"We should get going," Renna said, "Good night, monsieur Erik…"

Kyrian, Jean and Renna stood up from the couch and joined Colin and Briand.

"Good night," Erik said as they started to leave. Jean winked an eye at him and Colin mouthed 'Don't be a coward!', to which Erik only responded with a playful, incredulous frown.

Just then Christine came through the door, just as they were all leaving.

They courteously bid Christine good night each before exiting the room.

"Good night boys," Christine muttered back, smiling at them at the threshold. Just then, Jean, the last one, muttered rapidly to Christine:

"Whatever he asks you, just say 'yes', don't think it twice!" Jean said mischievously before winking an eye at Christine and leaving. Christine stared at her retreating back, clueless. What did she mean with that?

"What was all that about?" Christine asked Erik, closing the door behind her.

"Christine…" Erik began, standing up from the couch and advancing on her, "I would like to ask you something…"

"Tell me…" Christine said curiously.

He took her hand on his and gazed at her. He bowed slightly and kissed her hand in a courteous manner. Christine stared at him inquisitively. He straightened up and locked eyes with her.

"Would you grant me the pleasure of going out with me tomorrow night for dinner?" Erik asked her.

Christine smiled and couldn't help uttering a little chuckle at his query.

"What is so funny?" Erik asked her curiously.

"You're asking me out for dinner?" Christine said, smiling incredulously.

"Um…yes?" Erik said, confused.

"I mean… you're actually _asking_ me?" Christine asked again.

"Yes, what's wrong with that?" Erik asked, arching an eyebrow inquiringly.

"Wherever did the Phantom method go?" Christine asked playfully.

"What do you mean?"

"Three years ago, your method of "asking me out" was kidnapping me without my previous consent and taking me down to your lair…" she said, smirking.

Erik couldn't help chuckling a little.

"I don't recall you having any problem with it when I did so!" Erik said defensively.

Christine couldn't retort to that. In those nights, three years ago, she could've easily run through the door and escape, but no, she stayed. Every night he came, she stayed in the room, listening intently to his singing voice.

It was his voice what kept her in there, it was that man and mystery who drained her of fear. And so, she had followed him, deep down to the catacombs of the opera, where he dwelled. His mysterious demeanor had entranced her to the point of succumbing to his wishes without vacillation. Luckily for her, he loved her so much that he did not abuse of this power he had over her, with which he could've done many awful things, but that he refrained to do just for her sake.

"You always have to be the one with the last word, don't you?" Christine asked him calmly, smiling softly at him.

Erik shrugged and smiled back. He wrapped his arms gently around her waist and brought her slowly closer to him.

"Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow night?" Erik asked her with a slight whisper.

"I'd love to…" she replied in the same whispery tone while giving him a small smile.

She leaned a bit closer to him and gave him a tender kiss on the left cheek. But just when her lips touched his skin, all the memories of the nightmare came back to him; Raoul killing Christine right before his eyes, and Erik not being able to stop it.

He shook at the scene replaying before his eyes and embraced Christine closer to him, unconsciously.

Christine was aware of this and, though she didn't budge against the gesture, she stared at Erik curiously.

"Erik? Are you all right?" Christine said as she looked up to his eyes, a vacant stare meeting her inquisitive gaze.

Erik blinked several times before snapping back to reality. He looked down at her and tried to manage a smile, but failed.

"What is troubling you?" Christine asked him, frowning slightly in a worried manner.

"It's nothing…" Erik assured her, caressing her cheek with his hand.

"No… it is something…" Christine said defiantly, "Not only do I see it in your eyes, but I can also feel it…something is troubling you. You can tell me."

"It was just a memory… that's all." Erik said, "Nothing to worry about."

Christine nodded, though she looked quite unconvinced as she averted her gaze.

"You know you can tell me anything," Christine said, "You can always count on me."

"I know, and I do." Erik said gently. Erik couldn't bear to think about the face Christine might adopt if he told her what he had dreamt some moments ago. Besides, it was only a dream; it was nothing to really worry about, wasn't it?

Christine absent-mindedly rubbed her eyes and gave a soft sigh.

"You're somnolent…" Erik said as he turned his eyes to the face of the clock; 8:30 "We should go to rest."

Christine nodded and made her way to the door, Erik behind her. They walked silently down the hallway, their fingers entwined between them. Christine rested her head over his shoulder and gave a small smile, closing her eyes. Erik wrapped his arm around her waist to guide her, resting his own head on hers.

The Opera was silent; almost everyone had gone to bed. Mme.Giry was surely awake, making her night stroll around the Opera, and the managers must be in their office, arranging important matters. The lights had begun to dim out slightly as Erik and Christine walked to her old dressing room.

Christine now slept on her dressing room; her clothes have been moved back from Erik's lair and now she settled there. Christine sat on the bed, stretching her arms above her head and sighing. Erik walked to the old mirror and opened it. Before stepping through it, Erik turned his head around to Christine and bid her good night.

"Good night, _mon ange_," Erik muttered softly at her.

"Good night_, mon ami_," She muttered back, offering him a smile. Erik returned the gesture and stepped through the mirror. He closed it behind him and made his way down the dark, cold steps that led to the lake. He reached the landing and climbed on his gondola, taking the long, black oar and rowing to the shore opposite.

As the tiny boat bumped into the shore he jumped out. He stretched his arms over his head and headed to his room, drowsiness flooding him completely with every step he took. All the candles were quickly dimming out, their light reducing to a mere flicker as he approached his chamber.

As he entered his room, he took off his cape, hanging it over a lonely chair that stood on one corner of the room. He took his coat and vest off, tossing them to the same chair; he only wore his white shirt and his pants.

He walked over to his elegant swan bed and slumped over it. Sighing tiredly, he placed his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling above. He turned his head to a side and saw his beautiful Music Box on the nightstand. The monkey's little, beetle-like black eyes stared back at him. It lay still, its cymbals unmoving on its little paws.

However, what immediately caught Erik's eyes was the gleaming diamond ring resting on the monkey's lap. It was the same ring he had kept on a little box. He had taken it out, surveying it many times, sometimes for hours as he pondered on a very important thought in his head.

He stretched out his hand and took the Music box. He turned the little key some times and the little monkey started slamming its cymbals together, the happy tune filling the room. Masquerade. Erik took the ring and placed the box back in its place on the nightstand, its music still playing vividly.

Erik brought the little ring in front of him, running his fingers over the cool, silver hoop, caressing the cold diamonds that sparkled beautifully against the candlelight. This ring was only to be worn by one sole person. But, would Erik be brave enough to ask? He had been rejected once; he couldn't afford to bear another rejection, it would bring him to the brink of his sanity. But he had to try. He would never know the answer if he never tried. Though the first rejection had almost deprived him completely of rational thought, he knew what her feelings were now. She had repeated countless times to him, trying to carve it into his mind. He had more confidence now, but… he was still unsure. What if in the last moment he received a negative answer? What if he found out that the only thing she felt was just a temporary infatuation? It would break him, yes. But he had to try. This was the last proof he needed to really know. Tomorrow night, he was going to be ready.

As the Music box's tune came slowly to its end, Erik placed the ring back in the monkey's lap. After regarding it one last time, Erik slowly dozed off to sleep, the tune ending as his eyelids feel over his tired eyes.

* * *

Sunday. This was the night; the night in which he would have a normal date with Christine without kidnapping her. Anxiousness built up in Erik's insides as the due hour approached that evening. He would meet her on the Opera's roof, where Erik's friends had kindly set up a nice table lit by candlelight under the night sky.

"_So_ _romantic_!" Jean had exclaimed when she had come to tell him everything was set up.

Erik got ready. He wore the most elegant suit he had, and a satin red handkerchief was tucked sophisticatedly on the scruff of his shirt. Black leather gloves encased his hands as he put on some cologne. He was ready now. His hair was slicked back neatly and his mask was gleaming clean.

Before he left, he returned to his room and opened one of the drawers in his nightstand. He took something thin and long wrapped in a black silk cloth. He handed the hidden object with extreme delicacy as he tucked it safely inside a pocket in his inner coat.

He then clambered his gondola hastily and rowed as fast as he could to the other side. He took out his pocket clock and glanced at the time; 7:50 pm. They were going to meet at 8 o'clock on the rooftop. As the ship bumped into a halt, Erik jumped off and climbed the stairs two at a time. He reached Christine's room, which smelt of a sweet fragrance of lavender. As the perfume filled his nostrils with the sweet odor, Erik darted across the room into the door, running through it and down the hallway. He reached the Entrance Hall and dashed toward the stage. He went backstage and ran through the beams, costumes, items, and props unto a winding staircase that led to the rooftop. He scaled the circling metallic staircase up into another floor, in which he found another set of stairs. He dashed toward them and climbed them with ease, bumping into a door at the end.

He hastily rearranged the hankie on his neck and brushed his sleeves. He regained his breath from the long run and brought himself together. Adopting a calmed expression, he pushed the door open slowly.

As he opened the door to its full extent, Erik was met with the refreshing night air that caressed his face and the scent of the lavender perfume he had smelt on Christine's dressing room. He stepped into the roof, gazing at the elegant woman that stood beside a Pegasus' stone statue a few meters away from Erik, contemplating the star-filled sky, her back to him.

The Pegasus stood like a titan beside her small self, its wings spread upwards imperiously as he stood on its hindquarters on a big cubic stone base; Its mane and tail flew with an imaginary wind and it watched the city below with a defiant stare in it's menacing eyes.

A few meters away to the left, a table for two was set with a gleaming golden candlestick in the center of it, holding three candles alight. Two white china plates lay on each side of the table; the utensils lay aside them, their silvery surface reflecting the candles' light. Two wineglasses stood aside the utensils with a white napkin underneath.

Beside the table was smaller table holding a big silver plate with a silvery dome above it, which contained the food inside; there was also a bucket of ice with a single green bottle of wine tucked into it.

Erik returned his gaze to the woman, who had remained quite oblivious to his presence since he arrived.

Erik stepped forward, a bit closer to her and cleared his throat. Christine startled and turned around, quite surprised. She smiled as she saw that it was only Erik. Erik smiled back and took her hand in his. Bowing courteously, he kissed her hand in a gentlemanly manner and straightened up to meet her eyes.

"You look beautiful," Erik complimented her. She certainly looked radiantly beautiful. She wore a pale blue dress with a U-shaped cleavage. Thin, silky strands of white satin circled her upper arms and a white, artificial rose decorated the middle of her cleavage. She had another white rose tucked in her hair, which briefly reminded Erik of the costume she had worn in "Don Juan Triumphant", but in this case it was a white rose, not a red one. She also wore a lovely silver necklace with a gorgeous sapphire as the pendant around her neck and a silver bracelet with a little diamond rose in it. Her lavender aroma was particularly conspicuous now.

"Thank you," she replied, "You look really handsome as well."

He smiled and took her hand. He guided her to the table and offered her a seat. He pulled the chair backwards and motioned her to sit down.

"Thank you," she said sweetly, sitting down on the chair Erik offered her as he pushed it forward again. He then sat on the seat opposite her and began serving them both with the steaming food that was on the little table. After serving some steaks and side salad on each plate, he took the bottle of wine and poured a generous measure of crimson liquid into each glass.

They had a relatively silent dinner, occasionally venturing glances to each other, but never really uttering a word. The only disturbance, though, was that where Erik almost choked on his wine as he saw Colin waving at him from behind the Pegasus statue just in front of him. He coughed several times as the liquid traveled erroneously through his respiratory canal.

"Are you all right?" Christine asked, concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine," Erik said, cleaning his mouth with the napkin. Christine nodded and went back to her dinner.

Erik frowned at Colin who smiled happily at him. Suddenly, Colin reached behind the statue and took out a violin. He showed it to Erik, waving it at him. Erik now cocked his head in confusion. Erik saw how someone else's hand snatched the violin out of Colin's hand. Erik saw Colin discussing with someone behind the statue. As Colin returned his sight to Erik, Erik mouthed, "What?". Colin then dragged the "someone" from behind the statue; it was Kyrian. Colin started imitating a waltz with Kyrian, who looked totally irritated. Kyrian freed himself from Coin and hid behind the statue again. Colin pointed one hand to Christine and made an impersonation of someone dancing, placing one hand on his chest and the other one lifted at his side, dancing in circles.

Erik then understood their message and nodded his head. Colin hid back behind the statue.

Some minutes later, they both finished their plates. Erik stood up and walked to Christine's side. Christine looked up at him inquiringly. Erik bowed his head again and offered his hand to her.

"Would you provide me with the pleasure of dancing with me, milady?" Erik asked her, smiling tenderly.

"Of course, monsieur," Christine answered, giving him a sweet smile and taking his hand.

Erik helped her up and guided her to the center of the rooftop. Erik looked hesitant when he tried to place his hands on the right places. Christine smiled. She placed her hand on his right palm and placed his left hand on her waist. She placed her right hand on his shoulder and let Erik begin the dance.

It began quite hesitantly. Erik had never danced with a woman before, so he was foreign to the sensation. It began with a slow pace; Christine followed every step Erik took. It began with the usual one, two three, in a delicate order. Then, out of nowhere, a sweet music resounded across the sky. It was a violin, and it was playing none other than "The Music of the Night", Erik's song. The sweet melody reached both Erik's and Christine's ears and they totally lost the notion of the world revolving around them. They danced as if they had done it several times before, following the rhythm of the music perfectly, their eyes never leaving each other as the music consumed them. They went into a slow and calm "one-two, one-two" pace. Christine broke her eyes from Erik's as she rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes. As her hands moved to rest on his chest, Erik wrapped his arms around her waist, still following the "one-two" pace. Erik rested his head on hers and glanced momentarily to where Kyrian and Colin hid. Kyrian was the one who played the melody on the violin. Erik saw Colin wave goodbye as Kyrian ended the tune with a soft note. They both sprinted to the door and left, leaving Erik and Christine dancing in the night.

Not even the calmness interrupted their dancing. They had barely noticed when the music ended; they were both deeply submerged in their silent reverie. The stars above glimmered, like if they were regarding them jovially, and the full moon shone brightly in the far horizon. The chirping of the crickets soothed them as a soft wind blew past, caressing their faces.

Then, Erik remembered. He had to tell Christine something.

"Christine?" Erik asked.

"Yes?" Christine replied without opening her eyes or stopping the slow dance.

"Can I ask you something?" Erik asked her again.

They stopped dancing. Christine lifted her face from his chest and looked at him. She noticed that Erik had become slightly anxious, and his eyes reflected nervousness.

"Sure," she replied calmly, but with a slight curious tone on her voice.

Erik nodded. He guided her to one of the titanic statues and made Christine sit on the edge of the base like a bench. Erik turned away from her and hesitated a moment, muttering something Christine couldn't understand under his breath. With his back to her, Erik took something from inside his coat pocket with slightly trembling hands.

He turned back to her and advanced to her slowly, holding a black silk-wrapped object in his hand.

"Christine," he started.

Christine's stomach gave a tiny lurch when she saw Erik fall into one knee in front of her, his eyes burying unto hers. With rather reluctance, Erik unwrapped the object from its silky cover and brandished it in front of Christine. Christine brought her hand to her mouth in wonder.

It was a bright red rose in plain bloom. Around its vibrant green stem was wrapped a black satin ribbon, and over the knot of the ribbon was… a diamond ring. Christine choked back a gasp of surprise as she gazed at the engagement ring.

"Christine," Erik began again, a slight tremor in his voice as he held the gift in front of her, holding it with both hands as if offering a prize.

"Will you make me the happiest man on Earth…by becoming my wife?"

_

* * *

_

Feri- Chapter 8 done! I decided to put the rest of chapter 8 on chapter 9.

Erik- Oweee…. X,x

Feri- What's wrong?

Erik- I have a headache….

Feri- I told you too much chocolate is not good for you!

Erik- -grumbles- Why didn't you tell me _before _I ate the chocolate?

Feri- I TOLD you, but you were high on sugar.

Erik- -grumbles-

Feri- Awww…. -gives Erik headache pill-

Erik- No more chocolates for me… at least, till I get rid of this migraine.

Feri- And then you'll go back eating more chocolate which will produce you ANOTHER migraine afterwards?

Erik- Shut…up -lies down-

Feri- n,n

R&R! Please!


	9. Chapter 9: Love's Duet

**"L'Ange de la Musique"**

**Chapter 9**

**"Love's Duet"**

* * *

Christine's insides gave an uncomfortable squirm as Erik pronounced those last words.

_Would you make me the happiest man on Earth…by becoming my wife?_

Her eyes widened in utter surprise and a deep feeling of nervousness invaded her. Erik was proposing to her? Erik wanted her…to become his wife? She couldn't believe it…She was imagining things, surely. It was quite late at night; it must've been the tiredness playing some odd trick on her. Erik was proposing to her? It couldn't be!

_'Well, he's on his knees brandishing an engagement ring in front of you… Deduce it._' A tiny, little voice in the back of her head said in a matter-of-factly tone.

"W-what?" Christine stuttered in a slight whisper, not really meaning for him to hear her.

"Would you marry me, Christine?" Erik asked again, the anxiousness getting the best of him, making his voice shake a bit. His hands quivered slightly as he held the rose with the ring, waiting for Christine's answer with the feeling of dread rising inside of him. He had not planned what he would do if he received a negative answer.

_Damn it_, Erik cursed in his mind.

He saw Christine avert her gaze, deep in thought.

_She's going to say 'no'…I can feel it… She's going to reject me… I should've known better,_ Erik thought unhappily, _I shouldn't have come… I'll just make a fool of myself…and Christine might not want to talk to me after this. Damn it…_

Erik, with his head downcast, began lowering the rose slowly in defeat. He made to stand up, but his legs were shaking so badly, that he couldn't bring himself to stand. Instead, he withdrew his hand and made to put away the rose in his inner chest pocket, but Christine caught his hand swiftly with her own, stopping him on his tracks.

With her free hand, she took the rose from his hand and brought it closer to her, surveying it with interest. She brought her other hand back and ran her fingers down the soft, satin ribbon tied around the stem. She moved her hand to the top, feeling the soft, red petals, and then shifted her hand down to the firm, cool stem, resting her fingers on the cold surface of the diamond ring.

Her eyes admired the beautiful gift before her, but her eyes gleamed with even more awe at the meaning behind the objects. Crystal tears invaded the corners of her eyes as she bit her lower lip, fighting the tears back.

_Perfect… now I made her cry… I shouldn't have dared…it's too soon… _Erik thought, _…she must hate me now…_

Erik, being the pessimist he was, wasn't aware of the blissful happiness flooding Christine's senses at that same moment. That happiness made the tears roll down her cheeks into her lap in silent contentment.

"Why…." she whispered, her voice cracking.

Erik lifted his head to look unto her eyes. He was quite taken aback as she gazed back at him with a wide smile on her face, and a gleam in her eyes as she held the rose close to her heart.

"Why did you take so long?" she asked softly, smiling sweetly as her tears fell more freely now down her face.

Erik stared at her, confused.

"Oh, Erik!" She lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and sobbing happily unto his shoulder.

"Chr-Christine!" Erik muttered as he was pushed from his kneeling position into a sitting one.

"Yes!" she said happily in his ear, "Yes, Erik!"

"W-what?" Erik inquired, not believing his ears.

She drew back to stare at him, her tears of happiness staining her face.

"I want to become your wife!" she said, "I want to marry you!"

Erik's eyes widened in complete surprise. He blinked a bit and shook his head slightly, not believing what had just been revealed to him.

"You want?" Erik said, "You really mean it?"

"Yes!" Christine exclaimed excitedly.

She embraced him again, smiling broadly as tears still streamed down her cheek. Erik wrapped his arms around her as he tried hard to keep his own tears of happiness back with a warm smile plastered across his face.

Erik stood and helped Christine up. Upon seeing her, he cupped her face and brushed the tears away with his thumbs. He took the rose from her and removed the ring, sliding it down the stem. He returned the rose to her, and she took it. He then took her left hand and slipped the diamond ring into her middle finger.

And before he could do anything about it, Christine had pressed her lips against his in a grateful kiss, which Erik (after a few seconds of regaining his composure), returned blissfully without hesitation. She wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the feeling of his warm body against hers in that cool night.

Erik then lifted her by the waist and spun her around, her dress billowing behind her as she laughed delightedly. After some moments of bliss, Erik lowered her and kissed her forehead. He nuzzled against her cheek gently as he leaned over to her ear to whisper, "_Thank you for making my life worth living."_

She smiled as she closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, playing with the black ribbon of her rose.

Erik saw and took the rose gently from her. He proceeded with snapping the rose in two and discarded the stem, keeping only the rosebud with only a tiny bit of stem. He removed the white, false rose on her hair and tucked the red one on instead.

A soft, cool breeze blew past and Christine couldn't help shivering slightly against the cold air. Erik took his cloak off and wrapped it around her thin frame, shielding her from the light wind. He enveloped her in his embrace, bringing her close to him to warm her.

She rested her head on his chest, feeling safe and secure, sure that nothing would ever harm her as long as he was by her side always.

* * *

"He did _what?_" inquired an incredulous Jean as Kyrian and Colin told them what they have seen up on the rooftop.

Kyrian and Colin had met the rest in the stables, where they've been waiting eagerly for news on the little dinner; even Cloud, the mare, was restless. Colin told them that he had stayed a few moments behind while Kyrian continued his way down, missing the proposal.

"Yes, I stayed behind some minutes to watch, and Erik proposed to her!" Colin said.

"Brother…. you were _spying?"_ asked Briand incredulously.

"Don't start, Briand!" retorted Colin, rounding on his brother angrily.

"I mean, you were actually spying on them while they shared an important moment together? There's something called _privacy_ Colin!"

"Don't make such a fuss! I only stayed some minutes…" Colin said defensively.

"It was still indecent!"

"You sound just like mother," Colin said, rolling his eyes.

"So… did she say yes? Are they going to get married?" Jean asked, ignoring the brief fight that had occurred between the twins.

"Yes! She accepted, but the idea of proposing to her on their first date? Now, that's what I call 'going straight to the point'," Colin sniggered.

"From what Colin told me, Christine seemed quite delighted," Kyrian said.

"How exciting! Christine and Erik are finally going to get married!" Renna exclaimed delightedly. "They're finally going to be together!"

"Yes, I can't wait to see their babies!"

"COLIN!" everyone retorted at his tactless exclaim.

"What?" Colin inquired, raising his eyebrows in faked innocence, "We _all _know what happens after a couple gets married! You know…" and he began counting with his fingers, "…ceremony, marriage, party, honeymoon, and in the honeymoon-"

"Yes, Colin, we get the idea!" Yvonne interrupted, glaring at Colin.

Colin shrugged and smirked.

* * *

Erik and Christine remained on the rooftop, enjoying each other's company in their embrace. Erik glanced up at the sky once in a while, examining the heavens like if waiting for something to happen. He took his golden pocket watch and checked the time; 10:20 pm. Almost time.

Christine gave a tiny yawn and Erik took her to the same stone base under the Pegasus in which he had proposed to her minutes before. He sat her down and took his place beside her. He wrapped his arm around her and she laid her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. He checked the time again in his golden clock; 10:25 pm. Five minutes to go…

Suddenly, the lights coming from the opera flickered off, leaving them in a partial darkness.

The only thing that produced light now was the dying candles above the table, the silver moon on the sky, and the dim lights from the city below, which citizens were preparing for a good night's sleep.

"Erik… the Opera is closing… shouldn't we go back?" Christine whispered, stirring in his hold and moving closer to him while bringing the cloak closer around her. She looked up at him and he turned his gaze to her.

"We have to wait a few more minutes. There's one more thing I wish to show you before we retire," he said softly, lifting her chin slightly with his finger.

"And what can that be?" she asked curiously.

"It's a surprise," he smiled.

Two minutes passed and all the lights in the city below extinguished, except the streetlamps.

"Come, it is almost time," Erik muttered. He stood up and offered his hand to her. She took it and Erik led her back to the table. He blew off the candles; fine, thin streaks of smoke trailed upwards from them, and they were nearly surrounded by complete darkness.

"Erik?" Christine said. Erik returned to her side and glanced once more up to the skies.

One more minute to go…

"Erik? What is all this abo-" but she was cut short when Erik placed his index finger above her lips.

"Shhh…." He whispered, "Look up at the sky…"

She did so and was met by a star-stricken, dark-blue sky. That night the heavens were clear, free from clouds, and the moon shone brightly far in the horizon. Erik and Christine were bathed in darkness, with only the moonlight outlining their profiles.

"That's beautiful," Christine said in wonder. She had never seen the sky so clear. She returned her gaze back to him; moonlight traced his features, and Christine saw a small smile on his face.

"Look up again," he whispered once more.

Christine frowned in confusion, but returned her watch to the skies above. Then, she saw it. A swift pinprick of light flashed across the sky and vanished as fast as it had appeared.

"A shooting star!" she exclaimed.

Then, there was another. And another. Two more. And then a downpour of shooting stars decorated the heavens, their lights flashing everywhere as they disappeared into the firmament. It was a beautiful sight indeed. Millions of lights danced steadily above; the bright spectacle surpassed by much the fireworks Christine used to see on the Balls that took place at the Opera.

After some minutes, the downpour began to diminish into a light shower, finally ending with a few flashes, until it ended completely.

"Oh, Erik that was amazing!" Christine exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him lightly. "It was truly beautiful,"

"But not as beautiful as the angel standing before me," Erik whispered. Christine flushed slightly and smiled at him.

"Come, my love, it's getting cold," Erik murmured, placing a soft kiss over her temple.

She offered him a warm smile and he wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her to the door back to the opera.

They made their way down the halls, everything quiet and peaceful at this time of night. The lights were beginning to dim off, leaving just a soft glow on their wake. Erik escorted Christine back to her dressing room, igniting some candles for her to allow her to change to her nightclothes with light.

She settled on her elegant, mahogany dresser with a triple mirror, one in front of her, and two extended ones at either side of the first one. She removed the red rosebud from her hair with a smile and placed it among her valuables inside her jewelry box.

"Thank you for the wonderful night, Erik," she sighed contently, taking a hairbrush from one of the drawers and brushing her soft curls. "_It was perfect_," Her eyes glowed brightly and her heart felt as free as a bird in summer. Erik had made her the happiest woman on earth tonight without him realizing it. He had fulfilled a long forgotten dream that had remained hidden in the darkest corners of her mind- a dream that had shattered the moment she went with Raoul on confused ideals and promises. But that dream… it had come back, but not only that, it had been granted. She couldn't feel happier.

"It was my pleasure, my dear," he said softly. He approached her and took the hairbrush from her hand. He slid the hairbrush down her chestnut hair, combing her tresses gently. He finally had her. She was his now. Just his. _His_ love. _His_ angel. _His_ Christine.

How his life came ricocheting from the pits of misery to the heights of delight in such a short time was still a mystery for him. Maybe there was indeed a God, and He had heard his pleas.

Erik took some stray curls and tucked them behind her ear, but his skin made such a close contact with the sensitive spot behind her ear, that she held her breath abruptly as her skin tingled and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on an end. Erik noticed this with a small mischievous grin upon his face.

He lowered the hairbrush on the dresser silently and stroked her curls with both hands.

He slid his fingers down the back of her neck and to the front of her collarbone. He ran his hands to the sides of her neck, caressing the skin there with seductive movements.

She moaned as he touched her sensitive spot behind her ear again, massaging the flesh.

"Oh," she whispered, closing her eyes in delight.

She tilted her head to a side, giving him more space. But instead of his hands, it was his lips, which now trailed down her neck with soft, loving kisses.

"Erik," she moaned his name. He slid his hands down her arms, feeling her skin tingle beneath his touch. He smirked against her neck. Before, he wouldn't have dared touch her as closely as he did now. But now, she was his fiancée, she loved him, and he loved her above anything else.

She raised her arm back and tangled it around the back of his neck, pulling him forward. As he traveled up her jawbone while placing kisses on the flesh, his mouth found hers and they kissed gently, her petal-soft lips caressing his tenderly. As he moved down again, she craned her head back and allowed him to give her more heated kisses.

After a while, his kisses became so fiery and loving that she couldn't resist anymore; she felt a tickling sensation in the pit of her stomach, and an irresistible urge to hold Erik in her arms, to never let go; suddenly, her urge become way too intense to ignore. She stood up and faced him. He did the same and both locked their lips instantly in a fervent kiss, wrapping their arms around one another tightly as if fearing separation.

They had broken the last barrier, the last barrier that kept them at bay and distant. That barrier had crumbled to the ground the moment Christine took hold of him desperately as he returned the action with the same zeal. She felt the same way as he did; he'd been afraid of finding out Christine didn't share his feelings exactly. But he had been proven wrong and had discovered a side of his Angel of Music he had never seen; a side which he had caught only a glimpse, a preview, of once in his lifetime. He had taken in that glimpse almost 4 years ago, just above the bridge on the stage while they sang together _The Point of no Return. _She had showed her seductive side, her passionate side… her lust-hungry side; a side that allured to him to the brink of insanity. His innocent and pure Angel of Music had revealed to him at last her darker side. Now nothing mattered… nothing… only them.

Suddenly the room became too hot for him to bear and, without breaking their kiss, Erik removed his coat and handkerchief and threw them to a side carelessly, pulling Christine closer to him in his embrace. The cloak slipped down her shoulders as she tangled her arms around his neck. Their kiss became so deep and passionate, that they barely noticed when they both landed on Christine's bed; him a top of her.

Their kiss only became deeper as their passions flared. With all decency thrown aside, his tongue nudged tentatively at her closed lips in want for admission and she gave him full access, parting her lips. He explored her mouth. She was so sweet, so enticing, so…intoxicating. She was his drug, his addiction; an addiction he couldn't be saved from.

He could hear her moan into his mouth as he ran a hand down her hip and over her lower abdomen. They were so enveloped in their love. The room dissolved into nothing. It was only _him_…and _her_; their heated ardor almost deprived them of all rational thought. He slid his lips to her collarbone, eliciting another soft moan from her. She ran her hands through his soft, black hair as he kissed the crook of her neck passionately.

Their bodies heated up with an overpowering feeling beyond their control. After a short while, they totally lost track of time and space; it was only they in that oblivion of passion and love. Their minds both became clouded by the indubitable haze of desire, while their bodies craved desperately to become one.

They had become so engulfed in their heated passion, that Erik could feel his forehead transpiring slightly as he kissed her neck ardently again. His hand moved against his will and slid under her dress and up her thigh, moving his hand up and down in a slow, enticing motion, and making Christine give a muffled moan as his lips claimed hers again.

Her hands instantly flew to the buttons of his vest in their fervor, and she began to unfasten the first couple ones. Erik hardly noticed her actions and just concentrated on pouring his love for her in his kiss, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. As she finished with his vest, she proceeded with his shirt, undoing its buttons as well. Halfway down, her fingers brushed against his chest lightly and he shivered.

Suddenly, Erik returned painfully to his senses. He broke the kiss, prying his mouth away from hers, and stopped her hand from advancing, taking it in his own. He stared down at her with glassy eyes, both breathless and panting from the intense passion. Her chest heaved up and down in a hurried pace, as did his. Both their hearts beat rapidly against their ribcage. Her cheeks, he noticed, were heavily flushed in a crimson shade, and her lips had swollen up a bit. Bangs of his hair fell untidily over his forehead, having come loose in their vehement zeal. Her hair was also a mess, sprawled all across the bed like a many-legged spider. He could still feel the intense heat emanating strongly from her body, and see the hidden desire burning within her eyes.

"Erik?" she inquired breathlessly, brushing her fingers softly against his unmasked cheek.

"No," he murmured, "I…I-I can't…"

He felt awkward, doing this. He hadn't really asked for her consent, he was acting out of his own urges, thinking that she felt the same way… but… did she? He inwardly reprimanded himself sternly. What could he have done to her if he hadn't stopped? But most importantly, he didn't know if she felt the same. For a moment he thought she did, but now he was unsure.

Christine just gazed up at him. She still lay on her back, and Erik looked down at her with insecure eyes. She brushed away some stray hair from his forehead and smiled confidently at him. Upon seeing her expression he understood, and his eyes softened; she did share his feelings.

"No…" He whispered softly yet again, removing some curls from her rosy face with his hand, "Not yet, _mon amour_…"

She pouted in faked disappointment and Erik kissed the pout away.

"It would be improper my dear," he said, to add an excuse to his sudden refusal. "We must wait." He cupped her chin and gave her a soft, tender kiss, quite the opposite of the kiss they had shared just moments before.

Christine nodded knowledgably and brushed his bangs back off his forehead. He made to stand and she sat up. Before he could stand up fully, she stopped him in his tracks by snaking an arm around his neck again, pulling him closer and giving him one last kiss.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too, angel," he whispered back.

Erik stood straight and smiled down at her.

"Good night, _mon ange_," he said softly to her.

"Good night, _my love_," she replied, smiling warmly.

Erik smiled one last time, collected his coat, cloak, and handkerchief from the floor, and disappeared through the mirror. As she saw the huge mirror slide close, she ran to her dresser again. She gazed unto the mirror at her reflection; she noticed her cheeks were still flushed. Never had she had such a close contact with someone else before. It had awakened in her a feeling so new and overwhelming, that for a moment she was afraid of losing control... It felt… so good… Erik's body pressed against her own; it didn't feel wrong or improper, it rather felt completely natural; like if they belonged unsurprisingly together, like if they were _meant_ to be together. His touch always made her melt, and his voice, succumb to his wishes without hesitation. But regardless of the intense power he had over her, he never did anything to harm her, or make her do anything against her will that she would later regret. He loved her so. And so did her.

She could still feel her lips throbbing, craving for more love, but Erik was gone now. She brought her hand to her rosy lips and brushed her fingers softly against them. She smiled and lowered her hand again, looking down and admiring the glinting diamond ring around her finger. She couldn't help but smile broadly.

She combed her hair hurriedly and removed her dress, replacing it with a comfy, light, cream nightdress. She slumped unto the soft bed, a smile playing across her face at the prospect of consummating her love with Erik at last in a near future. She closed her eyes and sighed out his name before falling completely asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Christine woke up with the warm morning sun leaking through her open window. The sunrays trespassed her closed eyelids and she frowned against the light hitting her face mercilessly. She tried pulling the blanket over her head to fend off the strong rays, but it was proven a futile attempt; the light just got through the thin material of the blanket and she decided to give up.

She sat up and yawned, stretching her limbs. She narrowed her eyes to adjust them to the intruding light. She rubbed her tired eyes with her hands and looked around. Her gaze instantly fell on her bedside table, where a single blooming, red rose rested with a black satin ribbon tied around the stem.

She smiled warmly and reached out for it. She caressed the gift, her fingertips brushing against the soft surface of the silky petals. She inhaled the rose's aroma and sighed.

_Erik_

Oh, how she loved him! Her soul soared to new heights now that she had her Angel with her forever. She found herself yearning for him and incapable of bearing one more minute without his company.

Jumping out of bed merrily, she changed her nightgown for a simple turquoise evening dress she took from her dress-filled wardrobe. Taking a hairbrush and brushing her hair with it, she lowered the rose as she sat on her dresser; she closed her eyes and hummed a soft melody.

She heard the door creak open slowly behind her, but she didn't open her eyes or stop the combing of her hair.

She heard the footsteps of someone draw near in her direction, but she didn't budge. The 'intruder' stood behind her and took the hairbrush gently from her hand, brushing her soft curls. Christine smiled, her eyes still closed. She could feel his presence behind her.

"Good morning, Erik," she said softly.

The person stopped combing her hair abruptly. Christine felt the man stiffen slightly behind her and stand motionless. Without opening her eyes, she frowned and asked,

"Erik, are you all right?"

"Whose Erik?" the man asked with a cool voice. She gasped. That voice… it was not Erik's! It was a voice she had hoped to forget, to never hear again. A young, youthful voice that had once driven her away from Erik with promises he would later break.

Her eyes snapped open and she whirled around violently with such a force that she almost fell from the bench in her haste. Her heart sank horribly and a lump formed in her throat. There, standing imperiously in front of her, was none other than… _Raoul._

"Ra-Raoul!" she gasped, unable to believe what her eyes were seeing, trusting that it was just some trick of the light, or that maybe her eyes were deceiving her and she was still too tired to see correctly. But her eyesight was clear, and…were her ears deceiving her too? She had heard his voice…there was no doubt.

"Raoul, what are you doing here?" she asked urgently, standing up hastily and knocking the bench in her alarmed hurry.

"_What? Have you not missed me, my love_?" Raoul asked in a mocking voice, advancing on her. It seemed the sun had suddenly forgotten how to shine, for it had stopped doing so, and the room was bathed in semi-darkness. A disembodied, extremely weak and dim light, illuminated the room brightly enough for her too see him.

She stepped backwards and away from him. He followed her with a mysterious slow pace, with glowing, hungry eyes, and a smirk playing on his features while stalking her like a predator would with its prey.

"No! Go away!" she screamed, her anxiety getting the best of her and making her voice tremble. She continued stepping away from him, keeping as much distance as possible between them.

"_That's a shame_," he murmured in a faked sad tone, "_Because I have. I miss you, Christine_,"

"Leave me alone!" she screamed while darting to the door desperately, but just as she reached out for the doorknob, Raoul ran after her and stepped in front of the exit, blocking her only means of escape.

"_I won't let you go_," he said slyly, _"…not this time…"_

He made to grab her hand, but she jumped several steps backwards.

"_I won't lose you, Christine_," he said, advancing on her again, "_You'll be mine forever,"_

"No…no," she said helplessly. She continued backing away, until her legs hit something solid. She turned her head around and found her bed blocking her path, disallowing any further escape. She gulped the lump in her throat as apprehension built up inside her.

She turned her head back at him and gave a loud gasp as he lunged at her, knocking her unto the bed. She fell unceremoniously on the soft surface. Raoul towered over her and pinned her down, capturing her hands and holding them above her head on the bed. She gave a despairing wail as he held her down brusquely, his grip on her hands hurting her and his weight crushing her. She could feel her eyes burning with unshed tears.

"Get off me!" she cried, trying to kick him off, but to no avail; his weight was crushing her lower body, preventing any further struggle, and his hold on her was inhumanly strong.

He gave an uninterested chuckle, gazing down at her with mocking eyes and a sardonic smile. He leaned down to her face, inhaling her scent. She twisted her head to a side, away from him.

He brushed his face against her cheek, sending shivers down her spine.

"_You're mine_," he growled in her ear. She gave a whimper as he kissed her neck. His cold lips froze the skin underneath them and she shuddered unwillingly. He slipped his hand under her dress and massaged her inner thigh, sending her strength ebbing away as an unwanted pleasure flooded her, "_You're so beautiful, Christine_." She couldn't stop the tears from falling now

"_Oh, don't cry_," he said with a fake innocent voice, returning his hand to hold her wrists forcefully, "_It won't hurt, I can assure you. In fact, I think you'll quite like it."_

"No!" she cried desperately, her tears blurring her vision. His hands still clutched her wrists imperiously above her head and she tried to struggle away from his grip, which only caused him to tighten his hold to a point were the pain upon her wrists was unbearable.

"_Come on, Christine_," he whispered again, "_Say you love me."_

He attempted to kiss her, but she quickly turned her head away and his lips landed on her damp cheek. He kissed her throat as she looked away. Her eyes then fell on her dresser, where the red rose laid.

"_Say you love me, Christine_," he growled hungrily in her ear, "_Say you want me. Say my name…Say my name…_"

Her lips parted as she attempted to talk. Her voice was breaking considerably and her low whisper was barely understandable,

"_Erik_…" she murmured unsteadily.

"_What_?" he asked, moving his mouth away from her skin to survey her. "_What did you say_?"

"Erik," she whispered again, her tears clouding her sight slightly.

"_Who is this man you call for?"_ Raoul asked softly, yet angrily.

"ERIK!" she screamed. She needed help. Erik must be here, near. He would save her. He had to! If he heard her, he'd come! Erik wouldn't let this happen! "ERIK!"

Her eyes darted back to the rose on the dresser a few meters away whilst she struggled desperately. Raoul followed her gaze and gave a sardonic chortle as he spotted the crimson flower.

"_He won't come_," he said in a soft, triumphant tone, "_Your 'Erik' won't come_."

"No!" she screamed, fighting, "He will! He will come for me!"

"_Poor, innocent fool," _he said with a laugh, "_He won't come. You know why? Because that filthy monster you dare call 'man'… is dead."_

She froze, ceasing her fight abruptly. Her eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat. No… this wasn't true. Erik is not dead. He couldn't be! He was not dead!

"You're lying!" she spat at his face angrily, unable to believe his venomous words, "He's not dead! You're lying!"

"_Sweet, little Christine_," he said sarcastically, "_So innocent, yet so annoyingly stupid_."

She glared at him, shooting cold daggers at him, wishing to make him suffer, to see him recoil in pain upon the ground. How dare he speak like this about her? about Erik?

"Won't believe until you see, won't you, Christine?" he asked with a sneer. He gave a defeated sigh and withdrawn one of his hands, holding her wrists tightly with his other hand.

With his free hand, he dug it inside his coat pocket, rummaging for something. His hand stopped and he smiled victoriously. As he took out his hand from the pocket, she noticed his sleeve and wrist were suddenly drenched in crimson blood. As he withdrew his hand completely, she made out a thin, white figure clutched between his fingers.

He brought the object in front of her face and she gasped, fresh tears welling up in her eyes.

Raoul held Erik's white, porcelain mask in his hand, but what sent the color draining from her skin was the crimson liquid dripping from the mask, just beneath the eyehole and atop the nose bridge. The once white surface was shimmering with fresh blood. The thin trail of blood sliding down the eyehole looked like a morbid tear, sending an unwilling chill through her body and a feeling of nausea to her stomach.

A little, red drip of blood fell on her cheek from the mask. It was warm and yet so cold.

"What …did you do to him?" she muttered in an extremely breaking voice as her grief consumed her and her tears fell.

He gave a hearty laugh.

"_You needn't worry about him anymore_," Raoul muttered, "_He's dead… burning in hell like he ought to be."_

"NO!" she cried, closing her eyes and crying like she had never done before.

"_You cry for him? You cry for that monster_?" Raoul asked mockingly, "_He's not worth your tears or your love."_

"He meant everything to me! You filthy bastard!" she spat, struggling once more.

Raoul delivered a dizzying blow to her cheek in his anger, but she didn't cry out. She turned her gaze back to him, glaring as thought her stare could kill him if she concentrated strongly enough. Her cheek ached and burned, but that wouldn't lower her spirits or weaken her.

"_He was not worth of you_," Raoul muttered through clenched teeth, "_that monster deserved what he got."_

"He's not the monster…" she said, glowering, "_YOU_ are!"

His eyes widened, "_How dare you compare me to that beast, you ungrateful little slut!"_

He raised his fist as to deliver another blow. Christine closed her eyes shut, expecting the hit, but none came. Instead, she heard a grunting sound followed by a choking gasp, and then the weight was lifted from her body. She opened her eyes and found herself free from Raoul's grasp. She sat up and found Raoul grabbing his neck desperately as he choked, some meters away form her. Christine made out the thick strands bound tightly together in a rope. There was a noose tied firmly around his neck and he gasped for breath. Behind Raoul, she could make out a shadow of a man clutching the other end of the rope with might. Both men grunted and fought against one another; one to get free and the other one to hold him.

With an overwhelming force, the man snapped Raoul's neck with a deafening _crack_. His body fell limply to the ground as the man stood still, his chest heaving rapidly as he panted. He was all covered in shadows and she couldn't make out an identity.

She saw the man turn to look at her and step over Raoul's body as he walked towards her.

As he got nearer, Christine distinguished Erik's both demolished and perfect face and her eyes widened.

"Erik!"

She jumped off the bed and flung herself to his arms, crying unto his chest. Erik wrapped his arms around her comfortingly and stroked her hair delicately in a nonchalant way.

"Oh God! I thought he had killed you!" she cried, clinging to him.

_"Shhh_…" Erik mumbled soothingly, "_It's all right… I'm here_."

She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and placed her hand upon his left cheek.

"What happened, Erik?" she asked.

"_Shhhh…."_ He mumbled again, placing his index finger above her lips.

Before she could retort, Erik slid his arm under her legs and brought her up to his arms. They locked their eyes and he carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently and brought the blanket above her frame.

"Erik," she said, reaching out with her hand and caressing his cheek. He took her hand and kissed it.

"_Shhh….I'm here… I'll always be…."_ He whispered once again. He leaned over her and placed a sweet, gentle kiss over her lips. She gazed warmly at him and smiled sweetly. His eyes were soft and welcoming and his demeanor tender and gentle. It seemed that everything that had occurred just moments ago had just been a bad dream and hadn't really happened. A sense of peace reached her and she began to drift away into an oblivion… Erik leaned once more and kissed her cheek tenderly.

_"Wake up, Christine_…" Erik whispered in her ear. His voice drifted into a soft echo, piercing her mind quietly with the words she couldn't yet understand.

_Wake up, Christine…Wake up…wake up…_

_

* * *

_

Christine squirmed in her sleep and her eyes suddenly snapped open. She had been dreaming? Had all been just a dream?

She sat up on her bed, gazing at her surroundings, confused. The scene before her was the same as in her dream; soft sunlight filtering through the window, a pleasant, warm environment, and a red rose with a black ribbon resting on her bedside table. Everything was on its respective place. She got out of bed tiredly, squinting her eyes to see through the dashing light intruding her eyes. She walked to the wardrobe and looked at the dresses. Her eyes fell on a turquoise evening dress. She stared at it for a while, and shook her head. She took a light yellow dress instead and switched her clothes.

As she combed her hair in front of the mirror, she ventured some glances at the closed door reflected on the mirror from time to time. She was being paranoid, she knew, but just in case her dream decided to become a premonition, she opted to be cautious.

She couldn't help uttering a small smile before she took the blooming rose in her hands from the bedside table.

She darted to the door and pulled it open, but before she could get out, she glanced sideways for any sign of the Vicomte, but there wasn't anyone there. She sighed and went to find Erik.

* * *

Lame chapter, I know. I promise the next ones are going to get better! Please review! I need your comments! I'm having a really bad week and your reviews would brighten my day considerably! Please! I also want to know what you think, but NO FLAMES please! It's enough with my dreadful week (cries) Hope you like this chapter anyways :)! Your reviews would mean a lot to me! Honest!

Also, sorry for the delay. School and disrupted sleeping pattern are keeping me very busy/distracted/tired. I'll honestly try not to take too much time on chapter 10. Reviews would encourage me to update faster, though! ;) Thanks for reading!

R&R!

Luv,

Feri-san


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